Page 74 of Rhett & Moses
“I’ve been thinking about who we were all those years ago and who we are now,” I explained, trying to articulate thoughts that had been forming gradually over recent months. “I’m not convinced we would have made it if we’d tried to stay together then. We were so young, still figuring out who we were individually, let alone as a couple. And the world was a very different place, especially for people like us in a town like Gomillion.”
Rhett nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve had similar thoughts. As painful as those twenty years apart were, they shaped us into people capable of building this..." he gestured around our bedroom, but I knew he meant much more than just the physical space, “...together. Maybe we needed that time to become the men who could love each other properly.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, touched by his perfect understanding, as always. “So no, no regrets. Not anymore. Just gratitude that we found our way back to each other when we did, that we had the courage to try again, that we’ve built this life together.”
Rhett leaned down to kiss me, gentle, unhurried, a physical affirmation of the emotional connection we’d just articulated. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright with a mixture of tenderness and mischief that never failed to captivate me.
“Well, husband,” he said, testing the word just as I had earlier, “shall we clean up and get some rest? Tomorrow’s our first full day as a married couple, and I have plans.”
“Plans, hmm?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite my post-coital lethargy. “Care to share the details?”
“That would ruin the surprise,” Rhett replied with a smile. “But I will say it involves that picnic basket in the pantry,the secluded spot by the creek we discovered last month, and absolutely no interruptions from well-meaning friends or family members.”
“Sounds perfect,” I approved, reluctantly acknowledging the wisdom of his suggestion to clean up before sleep claimed us completely.
We moved through the familiar routine with comfortable efficiency, warm washcloths, fresh sheets, the simple intimacy of caring for each other’s bodies in the aftermath of passion. By the time we settled back into bed, moonlight had shifted across the room, casting new patterns on the floor and walls.
Rhett curled around me from behind, his arm draped over my waist in the position we’d discovered early in our cohabitation suited us best for sleeping. His breath warm against my neck, his heartbeat steady against my back, he murmured, “Goodnight, husband,” the word still carrying a note of wonder.
“Goodnight, husband,” I replied, the simple exchange filling me with a contentment so profound it bordered on overwhelming.
As sleep began to claim me, I found myself reflecting once more on the journey that had brought us to this night, this bed, this moment of perfect belonging. From teenagers stealing forbidden kisses at Yellow Branch Falls, to estranged almost-strangers reuniting after twenty years of silence, to partners sharing a home and now husbands bound by law as well as love, our path had been neither direct nor easy, yet every step had led us here, to this culmination that was also a beginning.
Our wedding night, not the first night we’d shared, but perhaps the most meaningful, was drawing to a close. But the story we were writing together was far from over. It would continue tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that, for as long as we were granted together.
With that comforting certainty wrapped around me as securely as Rhett’s arms, I drifted into sleep, dreaming of the lifetime that awaited us with the dawn.
