Page 131 of Tears of Glass

It’s all him. He fixes everything just being who he is, with his big heart and his endless patience.

With our hands tightly clasped we head back out into the brisk Bankside air. “I’m thinking a small wedding. Maybe next weekend? You, me, and a chapel in Vegas?” His lips twitch again.

“Yeah, right, like your mother would let that happen. I’m thinking House of Glass Flowers and that bean stew we loved so much.”

I can’t believe I’m thinking of any wedding at all. I just know that I have to tie myself to him. I have to be one with him forever. Like when I melt sand and turn it to glass, that’s what we are. Two grains of sand from two different places, fused together for all eternity.

“Faith, we don’t have to do anything my family say. After that stunt at dinner last night I’m over it. We can be free of them from now on.”

I give him a smile and just hold his hand. Together I know we can be anything we want.

We get out of the taxi and I help him through the front door and onto the sofa. “You need to get to bed.”

“I don’t want to. I couldn’t sleep in there last night without you. Well, this morning, whenever I got back.”

“I need to say something before we go on. I just want to clear everything once and for all.”

“Yes?” His gaze searches my face and I meet it unflinching.

“Sex is something since Aiden I’ve always wanted to control. If I could choose when with someone, or how, it meant I have the power. What happened with Dan—”

He tries to stop me, but I won’t let him.

“It was like I was fighting myself. The me you’ve created and the woman I was before. I thought maybe I could find her again and she’d protect me with her rules like she always had. But she couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, it broke me. What had always felt wrong before I met you, felt even worse. There was no power there. No sanctuary to hide within.

“You’ve taken down all the walls, made me love and care and feel. I’m not proud of what I’ve done, Eli, but I didn’t do it to hurt you, I did it to protect myself.”

“I know, Faith. I laid here all night thinking about it. I know.” He pats the sofa. “Come and lie down with me. Obviously, I want to have rampant sex with you and shout from the rooftops you’re going to be my wife, but I think I might need some painkillers first.

“Let me go and organise some and then we can get some sleep. We’ve got forever to celebrate. I just want to be with you.” I place a gentle kiss on his forehead and get up from the sofa. “Oh, I found out something last night, too.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” There is a teasing lilt to his voice and I could jump with joy at hearing it.

“I can’t sleep without you, either.”

I grab a bottle of whisky, two glasses, and some ibuprofen. “Here.” I pour two glasses and crack him some tablets into the palm of my hand. “Here’s to matrimony.” I hold my glass out to clink his.

“Here’s to loving you forever.”

We take our shots and then I gently lay myself next to him. I want to wrap my arms about his waist, but I don’t. I know it will hurt him. He picks up my hands and places them exactly where I want them to be.

“I love you,” I whisper. Gently, because his fingers are bruised, I slide the ring I gave him off his right hand and put it on the left so it matches mine. Then I tangle our fingers together, our rings catching and fitting within one another.

“And I love you.”

I close my eyes, exhaustion washing through me and I listen to his heartbeat beneath my ear as I fall asleep.

I fought for him. Scared and broken I fought for him. I won. Him, me, us. Together we will be tied by the glass we’ve become and the rings on our fingers.

The room is dark when I wake. Eli is still breathing gently in and out. The rise and fall of his chest lifts my head with every breath he takes. We must have been asleep for ages. The doorbell rings. That must have been what woke me up. “Eli.” I kiss his lips tenderly, careful of the cuts. “It’s the bell.”

“It’s probably Tabitha wondering where we are.” He murmurs, not even opening his eyes.

“Shall I go and see?”

“Hm.”

I’m thinking maybe the painkillers washed down with whisky wasn’t a great idea. Slipping off the couch, I pad across the floor to the door and open it a crack.