by Wade, Ellie
“I can’t wait for you to see our apartment,” she says as we walk into the building and up the stairs. “Kate and I redecorated the entire thing. When I moved in, every room was painted a different bright color—yellow, green, red. I’m talking, like, neon shades. It was hideous. Kate and I spent weeks finding stuff at flea markets and secondhand stores. We painted the entire place by ourselves.”
“You painted?” I ask with a quirk of my eyebrow.
“Yep. I guess I’ve changed a lot since the last time I saw you.”
“I suppose we both have,” I agree.
“Yeah,” she says quietly.
She opens a door on the second floor and pulls me in with her.
“Oh, praise Jesus. I’m dying of hunger in here,” a peppy Southern accent says. A girl about London’s age with wavy bright red hair enters the living room. “Oh, hey.” She stops in her tracks when she sees me.
“I ran into someone today,” London says. “Kate, this is Loïc. Loïc, my roommate, Kate,” she says by way of introduction.
“The Loïc?” Kate asks, her voice rising an octave.
“Yep,” London answers.
“Nice to meet you.” I extend my hand toward Kate, and she shakes it.
“You, too. Oh, wow. Well, I’ll let y’all catch up and stuff. I’m going to head out and get dinner, I think.”
“It’s okay. We’re starving, too,” London tells Kate. “Does sushi sound okay?” she asks me.
“Sounds great.”
“All right, let me just go fix this mess”—she motions toward her face—“and we’ll head out.”
She’s cried off all of her makeup, and her eyes are slightly red and puffy.
And she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I take a bite of my seaweed salad as Kate talks about her big move from Mississippi to LA. She’s a chatty little thing, which I like because it gives me lots of time to stare at London. God, I’ve missed her. I don’t know what’s going to happen after today, but I know I can’t go back to life without her, not after seeing her again.
“What about you, Loïc? What’s life like in Michigan?” Kate asks.
“Well, I’m involved in a lot of groups at the VA hospital.”
“What’s the VA?” Kate wonders.
“It stands for Veterans Administration. It’s a hospital for veterans.”
“Oh, I see.” She nods in understanding.
“Anyway, I run some groups there, mainly for PTSD. I travel around, giving talks—like the one I did today—to raise awareness for issues that affect our veterans. So, I keep myself busy. But I’m retired or honorably medically discharged. I’ve been thinking about going back to college for something else. But I haven’t had time so far. I live with my sister and little nephew. He’s almost one.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Kate says.
“Well, she’s not technically my sister, but she’s the closest thing to it.” I sneak a glance at London, knowing there’s some animosity between her and Sarah. If it’s bothering her that I’m talking about Sarah, it doesn’t show.
“So, what do you two spend your days doing?” I ask.
“Well, Kate and I work together. She’s the receptionist for our office. We read, shop, watch marathons of TV shows. Nothing too exciting. I work a lot,” London says.
I can’t help but smile when London speaks about her life out here. I’ve always been extremely attracted to London, but seeing her so independent and successful just boosts my attraction to her up a notch.
Back at London’s apartment, Kate excuses herself to go read, and London and I find our way to her bedroom.
She closes the door behind herself and kicks off her sandals. “Are you comfortable in your uniform?”
“Yeah.” I nod.
“All right.” She shrugs and lies across her bed on her side.
She pats the other side of the mattress. I grin before lying down across from her.
We face each other like two bookends with an untold story between us.
“Where do we go from here?” she asks.
“I don’t want to be with anyone else, London.”
“Me either.” Her voice quivers. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me, too.” I lean in for a soft kiss. “London, I feel like I owe you an explanation for my behavior.”
“You don’t have to, if it’s too hard,” she offers me an out.
“No, I do because you have to know that it was never you. You hold no blame in this. You are and always have been perfect to me.” I tuck an errant lock of her hair behind her ear.
I don’t know where to start or what to say. So, I start with Cooper, and I tell her the truth—every ugly bit of it. She listens attentively as I talk about our mission, the grenade, Cooper’s death, and waking up in Germany without my leg.
London gasps. “You lost your leg?” She looks down toward my legs, covered in my fatigues.
It startles me that she didn’t know. But how could she? I walk without a limp now, and my leg’s covered.
Suddenly, I’m very self-conscious and filled with doubt.
London looks back up to my face. “You know I don’t care, Loïc. Right? You’re not worried about that, are you?”
“Maybe a little,” I admit.
London starts to cry and wraps her arms around me, burying her face against my chest. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me see you?”
“Partly, but it wasn’t just the leg. It was the depression and the posttraumatic stress. I wasn’t well. I felt useless, unworthy, guilty, and utterly hopeless. At the time, I thought you deserved better. I thought I was doing the right thing by breaking it off. I didn’t have the courage to do it in person because I knew you’d find a way to talk me out of it. I didn’t want to be talked out of it because I was convinced that, down the road, you would leave me for someone else, someone whole in every way. I was just…a vacant shell. I was hurting so much, and I knew I couldn’t survive you leaving me. So, I ended it on my terms. You have to understand that I wasn’t thinking clearly, but in that moment, I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“Loïc, that’s not how real love works. Would you ever leave me if I were sick or hurt?”
“No.”
“Then, why did you think I could have done that to you? I love you, Loïc. Love you,” she says, emphasizing the last words. “Nothing in this world could make me stop. Heck, I’ve been trying to get over you for over a year now, and I love you more than ever.” She peppers light kisses across my face.
She continues speaking, “I don’t know why we work, but we do. On the outside, looking in, it appears that we have nothing in common. We’re complete opposites in almost every way. We come from different backgrounds. But none of that matters. All I know is that my soul craves yours. My heart needs yours. My mind loves yours.”
“I love you, too, London. So much. I’m so sorry that I put you through so much heartache but know that I never meant to. I came for you as soon as I was able. I’m sorry I misread the situation. I could have saved us a lot of heartache.” I run my hand down her back.
“I hated our time apart, but maybe we needed it. It gave me some time to work on some of my flaws,” she says.
“Me, too. Though I love all of your flaws,” I admit truthfully.
“Well, I hope you have a few less to love now.” She winks. “I feel like I’m a better version of myself. I think we’ve both been trying to become a person the other could be proud of.”
“I was always proud of you,” I say.
“As I was of you, but now, we’re both walking with our heads held high. We’re proud of ourselves. That’s kinda great, you know?”
I nod. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“Now that I’ve got you back, I’m never going to let you go.” She smiles, and another small tear rolls down her cheek.
“I’m going to hold you to that.” I let out a sigh. “’Cause, you see, London, I’m always going to be im
perfect in more ways than one.”
“And I’m going to love you, imperfections and all, for the rest of my life.”
I don’t know who leans in first, but our lips find each other, and we kiss again. The kiss is smooth and sweet. It’s packed with love and loss, desperation and hope. I can taste the saltiness of London’s tears as my mouth continues to move against hers.
I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love her, and I know I never will.
Maybe she’s right. This time apart has made us into better versions of ourselves so that we can truly give each other everything we have.
The kiss goes on for so long that it’s all I feel. Every ounce of energy I have is put into it.
Breaths. Tongues. Lips. Desire.
I worship this woman. I don’t know what I did to deserve her love, but I’m never going to deny myself again.
London pulls away. My mouth is cold without hers.
“I need you, Loïc.”
My muscles tighten with her words. I want to be inside her more than anything. Yet, in order to do that, I’m going to have to face a deep fear.
London senses my hesitation. She kisses me on the forehead and rolls away from me. She gets off the bed and walks around it. “Sit up, please,” she says sweetly.
I do as she asked. I sit on the edge of the bed, my feet touching the ground, and I face her. I watch in amazement as she unzips the back of her sundress and lets it fall to the floor. With one flick of her hand behind her back, her bra joins the dress. Finally, she steps out of her panties.
“This is me, all of me, wanting all of you.” She takes a step toward me.
I reach my hands out and hold her hips. Pulling her against me, I rub my nose along her stomach.
“You’re so soft,” I say as my hands glide up and down her satin skin.
“Let me help you, Loïc,” she says as she starts to unbutton my shirt.
My heart accelerates. My body is a ball of nerves.
She pulls off my shirt and then my undershirt, leaving my chest bare. Her hands roam down to loosen my belt buckle and then my pants.
“Lean back, Loïc,” she whispers.
I do as she said.
She grabs ahold of my pants and boxers and begins to shimmy them down my hips. I feel the fabric move down my pelvis and to my thighs, and I hold my breath as she pulls them past my knee and to my ankles.
My heart beats so wildly beneath my chest that I’m sure she can hear it. I’m lying here, naked and exposed.
“Can you take it off?” She nervously searches my eyes, motioning toward the metal leg.
“I don’t have to.”
“I want you to,” she pleads gently.
I pull off my prosthesis and let it drop to the ground.
London’s bottom lip starts to tremble as her eyes fill with tears once more. Her beautiful brown gaze finds mine, and she holds us there—in this quiet space where no words are spoken, but so much is said.
She guides her hands down my face, my arms, and my chest, healing me with her touch. Her fingertip traces each scar before she kisses it. She supplies extra kisses to the scar on my side where I was hit with a large piece of shrapnel.
Finally, she makes her way down to my leg. Her fingertip presses lightly against the scarred skin, tracing the web of healed cuts and the outline of staples and stitches still present across the marred skin.
Her eyes, wide with adoration and pride, lift to mine. Her lips part as she breathes in, her breath steady. The love she shines on me is unwavering.
Breaking our stare, she drops her attention back to my leg where she proceeds to place soft kisses against every inch of the damaged stump. I suck in air. Raw and ragged breaths carry much-needed oxygen to my brain. Grabbing at the sheets on either side of me, I attempt to ground myself. London’s emphatic pronouncement, her kisses of unrelenting love, sears me to the core.
“Loïc, don’t ever be ashamed of your scars.” Tears fall down her cheeks. “Your scars are proof of the battles you’ve fought and survived. You could have checked out completely, but you didn’t. You fought to come back. You fought to live. You fought when your heart felt it had nothing to fight for. You are strong. You are brave. You are a warrior. And don’t you ever forget it.”
My eyes fill with unshed tears as this moment with London is more than I could have ever asked for. She’s not looking at me like I’m wounded. She’s looking at me like I’m powerful.
Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Her trembling skin is flushed as her dilated pupils stare at me.
In her face, I see a myriad of emotions—love, respect, and pride, to name a few—but the one I love most of all is lust. Even though I’m broken, she desires me every bit as much as I do her.
She places me at her entrance, and as she slides down, we let out a collective moan of pleasure because London and I together is the greatest feeling in the world.
Utter fucking perfection.
“Oh my God,” London cries into the heated space. Her hips move eagerly up and down against me, her internal wall squeezing me.
My shaky hands move over every inch of her skin, ravishing it, burning it with my touch. I need to feel London, all of her.
“Oh my God,” London says again with a shaky inhalation as she falls on top of my chest in a heap of tears.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, dragging my fingertips up her back.
This moment carries an incredible ache with a vast contradiction of emotions. I understand what London’s feeling because I feel it, too.
How does one grasp the moment when a heart once thought to be broken for eternity heals?
I flip us so that London is lying on the bed beneath me. Pressing my forearms into the mattress on either side of her head, boxing her in with my arms, I kiss her. I slowly pepper soft kisses across her cheeks, tasting the saltiness of her tears.
After I kiss the tip of her nose, I say, “I know…this is so incredible that it hurts, but I promise that this will be the last time I ever cause you pain, London.”
I start to move into London again. With each unhurried push, I place my lips against hers.
“I. Love. You,” I say, each word staccato. “I’m never leaving you again. I promise. Okay?”
London nods as her hands grab my face. Our lips collide in a crash of insane desire. With each rhythmic movement against each other, our cadence accelerates. Our need intensifies.
London continues to kiss me senseless, our tongues licking greedily.
The rest of the world has fallen away, and it’s just me and London, together, in this perfect moment filled with kisses, promises, and an intense amount of love.
I move faster, bringing London closer to the edge. She pants wildly, digging her fingers into my back.
“Loïc,” she whimpers from the back of her throat. Her eyes become unfocused before her lids close.
I steel myself for the release to come, rocking myself into London at the angle I know she craves. It’s been so long, but I know her body, every bit of it. I know what she needs.
London yells with a half-sob as she begins to shudder beneath me, waves of ecstasy erupting through her body. I follow her, groaning with enormous jolts of pleasure.
I cradle my face into London’s neck, feeling the blood rushing through her veins against my cheek.
“I love you so much,” I declare over and over against her skin.
“I love you.” She holds me tight. “More than you could ever know. Thank you for coming back to me.”
London never fails to make my heart still.
London
“For the first time in a very long time, I have no regrets, and my soul is completely at peace.”
—London Wright
My legs drape over Loïc’s as we sit in the airport. I probably look needy and clingy, but I just can’t stop touching him.
“Here’s a red.” I place a red gummy bear, Loïc’s favorite flavor, in his mouth.
“Thanks, babe.” He c
hews the gummy. “I still think it’s awesome that your boss gave you a four-day weekend.”
“Please,” I scoff. “I work my ass off for him. He’d better. Plus, I turned in all of my articles, so there wasn’t a reason for him to say no. I can’t wait to surprise Paige.” I grin.
Paige has been out to visit me a handful of times, but I haven’t been back to Michigan since I left.
“I can’t wait to see her either. I adore her.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “She’s a keeper.”
I lean in and give Loïc a kiss. “Thank you for missing your flight and spending the week with me,” I whisper against his lips.
“Oh, you’ve thanked me. Many times.” A rumbly chuckle vibrates through his chest.
“I’ve missed us. All of us. But especially that part.” I give him a wink.
“Yeah, that part’s pretty great,” he concurs.
“Have you gotten ahold of Sarah?”
“Yeah, I told her I was bringing someone back from Cali and to add one more to the guest list for Evan’s party.”
“No, you have to tell her it’s me. She hates me. She needs to know that I’m coming, so she can prepare herself.”
“She doesn’t hate you. And who else would I be bringing back from LA?”
“You didn’t see her out on the porch that day I came to your house. She didn’t want me anywhere around you. I know you told her that you didn’t want to see me, but she took great joy in delivering the message. Trust me.” I roll my eyes. “Honestly, I would have bet money that you two were married by now. I was sure she’d won you over.”
Loïc laughs. “Well, she definitely tried.”
“I knew it! What happened?”
“Don’t hold it against her, London. I’m the only stable man she’s known in her life. I’m the only man who’s loved her. She just wants to be happy. You can’t blame her. Someday, she’ll fall in love with someone for real, and then she’ll understand that not all love is equal.”
“Were you two ever together?” I ask timidly.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No one else since you.”
I exhale a breath of relief. “And it’s not weird, living with her?”