I want to know what she was thinking at that wedding. I know she wasn’t crying from sentiment. It was a beautiful ceremony, but I know Riona—her mind must have been full to overflowing, to make her react like that.
I flip her around on my lap so I can look at her face. I watch her ride me, her bare breasts pressed against my chest. I kiss her deeply, my tongue thrust all the way in her mouth. Tasting the last remnants of the champagne.
I can see she’s right on the edge.
So am I. I can only hold on a few more seconds.
I look her in the eyes and I say, very quietly, “I love you, Riona.”
I see her face crumple up like it did at the wedding. Like she’s about to cry. And then she starts to cum, and she buries her face in the side of my neck. She’s clinging to me, grinding against me, and I let go inside of her. What I feel is so much more than sexual release. It’s the relief of saying out loud what I’ve been feeling for so long.
When I wake in the morning, she’s gone. The sun is streaming in the windows, illuminating the empty spot on the mattress right next to me.
For a moment, I feel a sick swoop of dread. I think I’ve scared her off again.
Then I see the note on the pillow.
Before I snatch it up, I tell myself, Trust her. Trust that she hasn’t run away.
I read the first line in a glance:
Don’t worry Raylan, I haven’t run away.
I smile to myself. I know Riona, and she knows me.
There’s something I have to do this morning. It won’t take long. Please come meet me downstairs at 12:00. I promise, I’ll be there. I want to respond to what you said last night.
xoxo
Riona
It doesn’t say, “Love, Riona.” But after all, we’re talking about a woman accustomed to legal correspondence. I know the “xoxo” alone is a big step for her.
I get in the shower and clean myself up. I actually packed a bag this time, so it doesn’t matter that Riona destroyed my shirt. I’ve got a perfectly comfortable flannel button-up to replace it.
Once I’m all spruced up and fit to be seen, I head downstairs to get a coffee and a muffin in the hotel cafe.
It’s 11:00. I’m feeling calm and confident.
The closer it gets to noon, a little bit of nerves sneak in.
I want to believe that Riona feels the same as I do. I want to believe she loves me.
But I know as well as she does the barriers that stand in our way. We each have commitments to our families. We each have goals.
I didn’t know Riona was still in danger from her uncle—I came to Chicago to chase after her. To make this thing work between us.
But I didn’t have a real plan. As I mull it over now, I wonder if I can give up on the ranch, and my life in Tennessee. If she asks me to stay, will I say yes this time?
I think I have to. I promised my mom I’d come home for good. But I know my mother. I know she wants me to be happy. If I tell her that Riona is the thing that will make me happiest . . . she’ll understand.
With that decided, I finally feel the peaceful spread of warmth in my chest. When Riona comes back, I’ll tell her that I’ll stay here. I’ll learn to love the city life. She’ll probably take over the law firm, and I’ll . . . figure something out. I’ve always been good at making myself useful.
Riona pulls up to the curb in a taxi cab. She jumps out, carrying a rolled-up sheet of paper in her hand.
“Hey!” she cries. Her cheeks are pink from cold and happiness. “Are you hungry? There’s a restaurant next door . . . ”
“What do you think?” I ask her, grinning.
She smiles back. “I think you’re always hungry.”
“You got that right.”
We head next door. As we’re walking, Riona slips her free hand in mine. The ease of the gesture makes my heart swell in my chest. I hold the door open for her, and she sweeps through with an unusual lightness in her step.
“Table for two, please!” she says to the hostess.
The hostess sits us in a booth against the window.
Riona is smiling so hard that it makes me laugh. I’ve never seen her so cheerful.
“You’ve got to tell me what’s going on,” I say. “The suspense is killing me.”
“I bought an office,” she says.
That is not what I expected her to say.
“What do you mean?”
“Look,” she pushes the paper toward me. I unfurl it, smoothing out the edges so I can see the printed image. I see a brick building with large, square windows. It looks familiar, though I’m not sure why.
I read the listing:
6800 W Hill Ave
$789,000
2,746 square foot office building on 0.66 acres. Built in 1949, renovated in 2011. Has 12 parking spaces, plus a walkout basement of 838 square feet. Single tenancy. Partial view of the Tennessee River.
“Riona,” I say, slowly. “This is in Knoxville.”
“I know,” she says. “I saw it when we went into town to get the horse stall mats.”
“You bought a building . . . in Tennessee?” I know I sound like an idiot but I can’t quite believe this.
“Yes,” Riona says. She’s starting to look concerned—either that I’m not as happy as she expected, or that I might have brain damage. “It’s a bit of a drive from the ranch—but not too bad.”
I just can’t believe it. I don’t want to allow this wild happiness to rise up inside of me, in case it isn’t real.
I grab her hands and grip them tight. “You want to come back home with me?”
She looks at me with her green eyes bright and shining.
“Yes,” she says, simply.
“What about Griffin, Briar, Weiss? Without your uncle . . . there won’t be a Griffin. Unless you stay.”
Riona sighs. “I know,” she says. “I thought about that. For a long time, actually. All the time I was in the hospital, I felt this duty to stay. But then I realized . . . duty isn’t the same thing as desire. Just because I always thought I wanted a particular thing in a particular way . . . that doesn’t mean I can’t find something even better, and want that even more. Even if I was still hung up on the idea of a big law firm in a big city . . . I want to choose you, Raylan. I want to choose you over anything else.”
I shake my head in amazement. I really thought I was getting the hang of Riona. Then she knocks me over like this.
“I want the same thing,” I tell her. “I was all set to tell you that I was gonna stay here, in Chicago. And darlin’, I’m still willing to do it. We can pick right now—I want you to be happy, Riona. If that means staying, then I’ll stay.”
Riona just laughs. “I wasn’t kidding—I already bought this place. I sent over the deposit this morning. I used the insurance payout from the condo. And even if it wasn’t a done deal, I don’t care. I already got closure here. What you said was true, Raylan . . . the happiest I’ve ever been was that week on the ranch with you and your family. It’s beautiful, and it’s peaceful, and it feels like home. It's where I want to be."