Page 127 of When We Are Old

“Oh, you have no idea.” I giggled as his hand reached for my waist, pulling me into him. His strong arms wrapped around me tight, so I'd never be able to wriggle free.

His lips slanted on mine, his tongue searching into my mouth and seeking a response, which I all too willingly gave.

Our kiss stole a breathless moment from the early morning quiet.

“Muuuuuuuuuum!”

Matthew chuckled and pulled back, leaving me pouting and desperately wanting more. “Mrs Carling, I think you had better go.”

I pursed my lips. “You can’t make me.”

“Muuuuuuuuuuuum.”

“Aye, I can’t, but she can.”

“You take Poppy down to breakfast; I’ll deal with Bridezilla.”

For a moment I stared at the cotton hanging on the bed, a bubble welling in my chest. “I can’t believe my baby is getting married today.”

Matthew turned my face for his, two fingers gently guiding my chin. “She does you proud.”

“Us proud.”

For a moment we held one another’s gaze and a wordless conversation swept between us. Neither of us needed to say anything. We were together, forever, every day.

Ten years of highs and lows, but mainly highs, had given us all the things that we once had dreamed of.

“I love you, Ronnie Roo.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“And I love you, my Matthew.” I watched as he stretched from the bed. Still handsome even on the way to fifty, I still caught the odd glimpse of the boy I once knew, maybe more so now he came home from work covered in paint and ink, often a forgotten pencil shoved behind his ear.

He’s the very man I once dreamed of every night.

I caught his hand and pulled him back in. His lips kissed up my throat and he lifted me from the bed.

“Liam and Ruth are having Poppy and Jack tonight. Ewan will be propping up the hotel bar all night. I promise you we are coming right back here, just the two of us.” He laughed into my neck, squeezing me extra tight. “Don’t be so greedy.”

“I’m always greedy.”

“I know.”

He deposited me on the ground and turned to pull on his clothes. Grabbing up my dressing gown, I pulled it on. The morning was still chill, which proved to me Hannah had woken us up far too early.

My daughter, the bride.

It didn’t feel real. At nearly twenty-five, she had exceeded any expectation I might have had from her.

Not only was she an amazing older sister to Poppy and the boys, but she was full of a bright and brilliant light that I wished I’d always had for myself.

No one burned as bright as my Hannah.

“For God’s sake, what have you been doing?” She demanded as I entered her room, finding Poppy already sat in a chair and having her ebony hair curled.

“Morning, daughters of mine.” Poppy grinned, all her father in looks and colourings, very much like Ewan really. “Where’s the coffee?”

“We haven’t got time for coffee!” Hannah snapped and I let out a huge groan.

She might burn bright, but hell she nagged as well. Reminded me so much of Ma it actually made tears sting my eyes.