The Redemption

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The Redemption Page 28

by Lauren Rowe


  I smile at her. “No, I am not effing kidding you right now.”

  She glares at me.

  “We’re going to jump off Mount Olympus, baby. And then we’re gonna paraglide through the air, all the way to the beautiful, white-sand beaches of the Aegean Sea.”

  She smashes her lips together.

  “And it’s gonna be fucking awesome.”

  “Have I mentioned I hate heights?”

  “Many times.”

  She blinks rapidly. “Are you trying to make me hate you?”

  “Quite the opposite.”

  “Then you suck at whatever you’re trying to do because I hate you right now.”

  I laugh. “Come on, baby. Let me show you what we’re gonna do.”

  Chapter 43

  Sarah

  I’m shaking. I really, really hate heights. “Jonas, I don’t know about this,” I say. I’m stuffed into a thick flight suit and the guy who’s going to pilot my paraglider is securing my harness and double-checking all his lines, getting ready to jump off the frickin’ mountain with me strapped to his body like an infant in a papoose. I can’t imagine what part of this idea made Jonas think: Sarah.

  “Looks good, baby,” Jonas says. He steps up really close to me and double-checks the strap on my helmet. “Now remember, all you have to do is sit back and relax and enjoy the panoramic views as they segue from mountains to fields to sparkling sea.”

  He’s quite a salesman, I must admit. He makes torture sound almost lovely.

  “Just sit back and enjoy the ride. That’s all you ever have to do when you’re with me.”

  “You’ve already proved that to me a thousand times over—every single night, in fact—and I’ve surrendered to you countless times and acknowledged you as my lord-god-master. Why do you need me to enact yet another metaphor to emphasize your point?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Because for once in my life, I’m not talking about sex, baby. I’m talking about life. This is a metaphor for life—for our life together. I want you to know that when you’re with me, all you ever have to do is sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride—because I’ll always take care of you.”

  Well, that was actually a very sweet little speech. He obviously put a lot of thought into it. And yet, I can’t help myself from being irritated. I really, really hate heights. “Yeah. You’ll always take care of me, other than when you’re pushing me off high places, even though I’m scared to death of heights.”

  He looks distressed.

  I sigh. I’m so mean. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jonas.” I grab his hand. “I’m sorry. Tell me what you wanted to say. This is all a grand metaphor for life, not sex—if I sit back and relax and enjoy the ride . . . Come on, baby. I’m mean and horrible. You put a lot of thought into this. I’m listening. Continue.”

  His cheeks flush.

  “Please. Seriously. I’m listening.”

  He clears his throat. “Even when something scares you, if you’re willing to take a leap of faith—with me—you might discover you enjoy the ride more than you ever imagined possible,” he says softly.

  “That’s lovely. A fantastic metaphor. Thank you for that.”

  He’s gaining confidence again. “Ah, but this is only one of many metaphors I’ve planned for you today.”

  “Oh yeah? Is today Metaphor Day, my sweet Jonas?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. Today is Jonas and Sarah’s Metaphorical Adventure.”

  “Oh, how you love your metaphors, Jonas Faraday.”

  “I really do.” He takes a step forward, right up into my face. “May I tell you about the metaphor you’ve already unknowingly enacted for me today?”

  “Please do.”

  “Our hike up Mount Olympus. ‘Twas a metaphor.”

  “’Twas?”

  “’Twas. You’ll recall I followed you the entire way up the trail. Do you know why I did that?”

  I shake my head, grinning. He’s so cute.

  “Because I’ve always got your back, my love—and because I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. ‘Twas a double metaphor. I get double points.”

  I tilt my head at him. He’s thought quite a bit about all this, hasn’t he?

  “Next metaphor. We’re standing on the highest peak in all of Greece—Mount Olympus—the home of the gods.” He puts his hand on my cheek. “Do you know why I wanted to bring you here—to this particular mountaintop, specifically?”

  “Because you’re a sadist?” I say softly, but my tone is much friendlier than my actual words.

  He takes a long, deep, steadying breath and moves his hand to my shoulder. “Sarah Cruz, I brought you here, to this specific spot on planet earth, for two reasons.” He grins. “Double points again.”

  I smile broadly.

  “First, this is the highest peak in all of Greece—which means I am therefore compelled to climb it and shout to the world about my undying love for you.”

  Oh my God.

  “But we’re not here simply because Mount Olympus is the tallest peak,” he continues. “We’re also here because it’s the home of the gods, Sarah, which means it’s your rightful home.” His eyes sparkle. “You’re the goddess and the muse, Sarah Cruz. My precious baby, you are every Greek goddess, rolled into one.”

  “Oh, Jonas.”

  “You’re Aphrodite,” he says, “the goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, and sex—the hottest fucking sex the world has ever seen, oh my God.”

  I blush.

  “You’re Athena—the goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, law, justice, strength, and strategy. You’re so fucking smart, baby—you blow me away.”

  I bite my lip.

  “You’re Artemis—the protector of women. Baby, your gigantic heart—the way you so genuinely care about helping women and making the world a better place—it’s my favorite thing about you, by far.”

  I can’t believe he’s saying all this. I’m swooning.

  “But, wait, there’s more.” His mouth twists into a crooked grin. “You’re my Demeter, too—the goddess of the harvest, life, and sustenance. Baby, you’re my sustenance. I physically need you like a flower needs sunshine and soil and water—you feed me, baby, right at my roots. You give me life.”

  Holy crap—my knees just wobbled.

  “And, of course, My Magnificent Sarah, let us not forget, you’re also Hera.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “The goddess of marriage.”

  Come again?

  He beams at me.

  He’s speaking metaphorically, right?

  “My Magnificent Sarah, you’re all of these powerful and revered and beautiful goddesses, all rolled into one.”

  He wasn’t being literal just now when he used the word marriage, was he?

  “But on top of all that, let’s not forget, you’re also the muse, Sarah Cruz—the inspiration for female beauty itself. You are woman-ness from the ideal realm.”

  Oh my God. This is all just so over-the-top—so beautiful—so epic. “Oh, Jonas,” I sigh. For reasons I’ll never fully understand, my beautiful hunky-monkey boyfriend is flat-out addicted to mustard and, thank the Lord, I just happen to be a big ol’ vat of it.

  “And that, my dearest love, is why we’re standing atop Mount Olympus, the home of the gods and the highest peak in all of Greece.” He sighs like he’s greatly relieved, and then he takes another deep breath, apparently gearing up to say something more.

  There’s more?

  “But none of that answers the question why we’re about to jump off the highest peak in Greece, does it?” He looks like he’s bursting to tell me a grand secret.

  I shake my head, grinning. He’s so damned cute. How on earth did his beautiful mind come up with all this? “Please, love. Tell me why, oh why, we’re jumping off this mythical mountain? I’m hanging on your every word.”

  “Because, lovely Sarah, you and I are ready to leap to the next level. We first leaped off a thirty-foot waterfall together—because that’s what we could handle at the time
. But now we’re ready to leap from heaven itself.”

  I feel like he just made love to me with his words. Is he making some sort of eternal commitment to me—right here and now? Is this all some elaborate, metaphorical commitment ceremony?

  “Which brings me to our next metaphor. We’re about to take a giant leap off a mountain, My Magnificent Sarah. And yet, you’ll notice I’ve provided you with a parachute for your landing—well, a paraglider, technically, but for purposes of our metaphor, we’ll call it a parachute—because, no matter what happens, no matter how we wind up leaping in life, we’ll always do it together—and your safety and protection and comfort will always be my greatest priority.”

  This is insane. I’m melting here.

  Jonas’ face is adorable right now—he’s euphoric. He’s the most beautiful man in the world. And I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Yes, he’s metaphorically marrying me right now; I’m sure of it. I touch the bracelet around my wrist.

  “I love you, Jonas,” I say. Oh good Lord, I want to say so much more than that—but if I know my Jonas, he’s been planning this speech for quite some time and I don’t want to knock him off his game.

  “So you’ll jump off Mount Olympus with me, then?” he asks. He looks unsure of my answer.

  “Of course, I will, baby. I’ll jump off any mountain with you—not to mention any waterfall, tree, ladder, bridge, footstool, or curb—as long as I’m with you.”

  He practically jumps up and down with glee.

  “Oh, Jonas.”

  “But wait—there’s more,” he says. He stops to think. He suppresses a humongous smile. “But not now. Later.”

  My stomach flips. More? My mind is spiraling out of control, having all kinds of crazy-ass thoughts—thoughts I absolutely shouldn’t be having. Thoughts he couldn’t possibly live up to.

  “I’m only sorry I can’t pilot you myself. You being strapped to some random Greek dude when you leap off Mount Olympus really fucks up my metaphor. But I figured leaping and dying wasn’t really optimal in light of the metaphor I’m going for here.”

  I laugh. “I’ll just imagine I’m strapped to you the whole time.”

  “Please do.”

  A pilot approaches. “Are you ready?” he asks us in a thick Greek accent.

  “Yeah. I’ll be going first,” Jonas tells him. “Okay, baby?”

  “Great.”

  “I want to be down there waiting for you when you arrive.”

  “Another metaphor I presume?”

  “No. I just want to take pictures of your face during the landing. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

  I laugh.

  “But there is yet another metaphor awaiting us down at the bottom—the biggest metaphor of all, my precious baby—which I’ll tell you about in great detail after we land.”

  My stomach flips. Electricity courses through my veins. “Can you give me a little hint?”

  “Nope. I’ll tell you after you land.” Jonas leans in and kisses me. His tongue parts my lips and jolts my entire body. “Enjoy your ride, my precious baby,” he says. “Just sit back, relax, and take in the beautiful views.”

  I have the urge to applaud raucously—holy hell, I’ve just been treated to the most magnificent declaration of love ever bestowed upon a woman throughout the history of time—this was the Iliad of love declarations, people—but I somehow manage to control myself. “That was beautiful, Jonas,” I say. “I’m swooning—literally, swooning.”

  “Really? I’m doing okay so far?” He grins shyly.

  What the heck does that mean? “Of course. You’re doing great so far,” I say. “You’re a poet—the most romantic man who ever lived. An absolute master of Valentine’s Day bullshit.”

  He grins.

  “I pity the poor fool who even thinks about declaring his love to a woman after what you just did—I just experienced the divine original form of declaring-love-ness.”

  Jonas flashes an exuberant smile that lights up his entire face. “It’s easy to deliver the divine original form of declaring-love-ness to the divine original form of woman-ness.”

  A giggle escapes my throat.

  He laughs. “So are you ready to leap?”

  Well, that sure makes me stop giggling in a heartbeat. Holy crap. I’d kind of forgotten about the actual jumping part. “Sure,” I squeak out.

  He laughs and kisses me on the cheek. “Then I’ll see you down on the glorious, white-sand beaches of the Aegean, my precious baby.” He turns to his pilot and flashes him a thumbs-up. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter 44

  Jonas

  Here she comes, floating down from the sky like the beautiful butterfly she is. Oh my God, her face is gorgeous right now—bursting with excitement and accomplishment and awe. I can almost hear her squealing from my vantage point all the way down on the beach. I laugh out loud as I crane my neck up to watch her descend. Wow, she’s elated. I take a million pictures of her with my phone as she waves and mugs for the camera. Oh God, she’s adorable in her little helmet with her cute, flushed cheeks. She’s positively glowing.

  Her pilot yells something to her—I’m sure he’s prepping her for landing, probably telling her to stand up in the harness and get ready to hit the ground running. As he speaks, her happy expression completely vanishes. If I had to caption her face right now, it’d be, Holy shit. I can’t help but belly laugh.

  They’re coming in fast. There’s no turning back. Oh, my poor baby. She looks scared to death—in a sudden and total panic. I feel an acute pang of guilt for forcing her to do this. Maybe there was a kinder way to impose this last, glorious metaphor upon her? Oh well. It’s too late now. Here she comes.

  Their landing is perfect, thank God—soft as a feather, a gentle touchdown followed by an adrenaline-fueled run. Sarah and her pilot run, run, run together—oh man, look at her go—she’s like a pro—for a solid five steps, that is, and then she crumples to the ground in a relieved heap.

  I bound toward her, shouting her name as I approach.

  She’s thrashing around on the ground like an overturned turtle. Her pilot releases her tethers and she springs up off the ground. She runs toward me, shouting at the top of her lungs, and leaps into my arms, squealing and screaming.

  “Did you see me?” she shrieks. “I did it!” She wraps her legs around my waist and clutches me, closing her eyes as I pepper her ebullient face with zealous kisses.

  “You were amazing,” I say. “Incredible!” I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her.

  “I did it,” she screams. She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight. “I jumped off a cliff! I ran toward a frickin’ cliff—not away from it—and then I jumped. Oh my God, I was crapping my pants, Jonas, but I kept running anyway and then I leaped.” She kisses me again, but then she abruptly pulls away and swats at my shoulder, a sudden scowl overtaking her face. “I almost had a heart attack, Jonas Faraday. What the hell were you trying to do to me?” She’s trying to sound pissed, but her face is playful. “It’s not normal to run toward a cliff and jump, you know that, right?”

  I laugh. “But it sure is fun, isn’t it?”

  “So fun.”

  “You did it, baby.”

  “I did it. And so did you. We did it.” She beams at me. “And the view. Jonas, oh my God.”

  “Gorgeous, right?”

  “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Just heaven on earth.”

  “The color of the water—”

  “To die for,” she says. “I’ve never seen water that shade of turquoise before.”

  “And wasn’t it relaxing once you were up there?”

  “Yeah, once I stopped having a heart attack from the takeoff, I was like, ‘Hey, this is really nice.’” She swats my shoulder again. “Until the landing, oh my God, you sadist.”

  I burst out laughing. “You should have seen your face. Priceless.”

  “Are you trying to torture me?”

  I kiss her. “No, my precious bab
y. Quite the opposite.” My heart suddenly leaps into my mouth. This is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for. Oh my God. I take a deep breath. “Lemme put you down.”

  She unwraps her legs from me and slides down to the ground.

  My face feels hot. I can’t breathe. This is it. Holy shit. My pulse pounds in my ears. “There’s one more metaphor I want to tell you about—the biggest one of all.”

  She shifts her weight.

  I pat my pocket. Yep, the box is still there. “Sarah,” I warble. I clear my throat. “My Magnificent Sarah.” Oh God, my throat is closing up.

  She unlatches her helmet and takes it off. She looks anxious.

  I take another deep breath. “Thank you,” I begin. Shit. That’s not how I practiced this. Where did that come from? I’ve got to pull myself together and do this right.

  She presses her lips together, gazing at me intently.

  I take yet another deep breath, trying to gather myself. What did I plan to say? Whatever it was, it feels all wrong now. The only thing I feel right now is gratitude—love and gratitude. Fuck my planned speech. I’ll just say what’s in my heart right this minute. “Thank you, Sarah,” I say. “Thank you for loving me—for teaching me how to be loved. Your love is my savior.” My lip trembles and I pause, steadying myself. “Your love has given me life.”

  “Oh, Jonas,” she says, her voice brimming with emotion.

  I cup her face in my hands. “I got it wrong when I called our love madness. I’m sorry about that. Our love’s not madness, baby—our love is what’s finally made me sane.”

  She smiles.

  I rest my hands on her shoulders. “Sarah Cruz, when you crawled inside that cocoon-built-for-two with me, when you gave yourself to me, totally and completely, that’s when I discovered true happiness for the first time in my life.” I stuff down a sudden wave of emotion.

  She blinks slowly, suppressing tears.

  “And I thought . . .” My voice quavers, so I pause. “I thought there could be no greater happiness than that, than being inside that cocoon with you for the rest of my life.” My palms are sweaty. I pat my pocket and feel the little box bulging there.

 

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