But now I have a plan.
I rush back to the apartment and find Milly struggling to close a suitcase only to have it burst back open, knocking her on her arse.
“Need help?” I offer.
“No,” she pouts. “It’s all of these damn clothes you bought me.”
Regretfully, the hope I felt when I walked through the door is gone. Instead, I’m angry. “Well then don’t take them with you. I’ll just donate them all to the charity shop ‘round the corner.”
I walk forward and grab an armful of clothes. “Wait,” Milly says. She tugs something from the pile, and I turn slightly to see her holding a dark blue trench coat. “Not this one. I really do love this one.”
I roll my eyes and let the clothes drop to the floor. “This is so stupid Milly. I hate fighting with you even more than I hate seeing you get ready to leave.”
She fidgets with the coat in her hand. Her eyes are downcast and her bottom lip juts out in a pout I want to kiss away. “I hate fighting too but it still doesn’t change the fact you hid a huge part of yourself from me for months!”
“I’m sorry Milly. Truly, I am.” Suddenly, I remember the reason why I rushed back to the flat. “How do you feel about meeting my parents this weekend?”
I explain all about the anniversary party and how I forgot until Alistair reminded me. When I finish, I’m not sure if she’s even angrier or if this is the start to mending our relationship.
“Are you sure about this,” she asks with narrowed eyes.
“Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I want you to meet them?”
The pout is back, and she shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t be so daft! They’re going to love you.” I take a step over the pile of clothes and reach for her hand. “Now, is it alright if I kiss you?”
Her lips tremble as she tries to hide her smile, but she fails. I tug her closer and slide my arms around her. This is where she belongs, in my arms. I lower my head and brush my lips against hers softly. She tastes exactly how she did almost six months ago when we shared our first kiss in the hallway just outside the guest bedroom. Absolutely perfect.
Milly
Nearly five hours after leaving London, Ben and I arrive on the outskirts of Malton, where his family lives. The car ride was quiet because even though Ben apologized, things still feel awkward between us. Like, for example, when he announced that we were driving north. In his ginormous and luxurious Range Rover I didn’t even know he owned! His response to my flash of anger was to kiss the scowl off my face.
Ben drives us down a wooded gravel path that opens up to a campground. Suddenly, I feel very confused.
“This is where your family lives,” I ask, surveying the half-dozen small cabins that surround the lake.
“Sort of,” he says as he navigates his way around the lake before parking in front of one of the homes. “This lodge park is a part of my family’s estate.”
I blink several times, trying to wrap my head around the wordestate.
Ben turns the car off, sits back and looks at me. “This is not a big deal, Milly. I grew up here, so this is nothing more than home to me.”
I nod and assure him that I will do my best to think of it in the same way.
The cabin we’re staying in has an open concept living area that is bright and airy from the abundance of windows with impeccable views of the lake.
“We’re not expected up at the main house until tomorrow morning, so we’ll just relax tonight,” Ben says as he brings in the last of the bags.
My curiosity is bursting at the seams and I’m dying to ask him to take me there now, but I don’t want to ruin the truce between us.
“You want to see the main house now, don’t you?”
I squeal with excitement. “Just a little peek.”
“Put on a jacket. Let’s go for a walk.”
The park grounds are magnificent. Manicured lawns are surrounded by acres and acres of forest and there is even more than one lake on the property. And then finally, just when I feel like we’ve been walking forever, I get my first glimpse of the main house. It’s an impressive stone structure with a dome over the entrance that towers over the rest of the building. It’s breathtaking and the moment it comes into view, I stop.
