Page 62 of The Outsider
I arched up and kissed him.
“Yes, John,” I said softly.
He kissed me hard, then held me so tight that I had to fight a little for breath, laughing.
“There’s another reason,” he said after a moment, hesitation in his voice. “You already know that when we get home…not everyone is gonna be happy to see us. Especially with Asha now, too.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. But…it’ll be easier for you as my wife. There’ll be less doubt about my commitment, and it shows you’ll stick around.”
He let out a breath, as if nervous about my reaction. I stared back at him, nonplussed.
“As far as I’m concerned,” I said with a shrug, “getting married is a piece of cake after jumping into a frozen lake after you.”
John smiled and pressed a kiss between my eyes.
“I know it’s not going to be all that official-feeling out here, but I promise we’ll have a real wedding at home—whatever you want.”
“I hardly have grand expectations, darling,” I said. “My last ‘wedding’ was as sterile as could be—signed a few papers and that was it. I’ll be happy so long as I get to be with you.”
I kissed him,and we got lost in each other’s lips for a while before John spoke again.
“I’m excited to bring you home,” he said, soft and affectionate. “Show you everything, introduce you to everyone. Show you off a little.”
I laughed. “Just a little, hmm? Well, I suppose if we ever make it through this godawful winter, I’ll allow it.”
John sighed. “I know, but we’ve made it this far. Just hang in there a bit longer for me.”
“Alright. Just for you, Wastelander.”
He pulled me into an embrace and held me close for a long time. Eventually, he made love to me again, slow and gentle this time, cherishing every moment of pleasure we gave to each other.
“Ah, my Claire,” he breathed in my ear, his voice thick with tenderness.
I pressed my forehead against his as a pleasurable shudder passed through him.
“I’m always your Claire.”
Part III: The Valley
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
-“The Lady of Shalott”, Alfred Lord Tennyson
Chapter 18
