Wandering with You ✔️

Epilogue

London, England — a few years later.

British Airways, Boeing 747, flight 3154 landed on the tarmac with a thump, then a series of bumps that sent teeth rattling. The engine cowlings opened on a piercing cry of thrust reversers.

The first thing Nadia noticed was grey. It was so bloody grey. Puffs of mist swirled about the plane, and the sky strained under leaden clouds. Outside, the wet bitumen had deepened to the almost-black shade of charcoal that came after rain. Thomas had warned her about this. Told her London could be depressing in winter. But it was barely autumn.

At least there is some colour, she thought, noting the bright-green grass surrounding the landing zone.

Who cared? This was London. One of the greatest cities in the world; the home of Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn and the Beatles, for Christ's sake. What was crappy weather compared to so much culture? Plus, Thomas assured her they didn't have to stay in London. He had an apartment here, but his family spent much of their time in the country, close to Winchester. Winchester! The roundtable was there, right?

Nadia pressed her nose to the window and huffed as the glass fogged. Her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. Would his parents like her? They'd never met, let alone spoken.

Her stomach did a cartwheel, and she slammed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe.

A hand squeezed her shoulder. "Are you quite okay?"

Nadia turned in her seat and melted into the depths of Thomas's bright-blue eyes.

His hand traced up her neck to cup her face, the thumb rubbing back and forth against her cheek.

"Yes," she said, smiling, "just slightly shitting myself."

Thomas' face sobered, eyes darkening and lips pressing together, making small lines appear at the corners. "They'll adore you, as do I, my love."

The two words made her heart leap, just like they had the first time he said them.

When they'd first met, she'd joked that she wouldn't sell her soul by becoming a lawyer. As they continued to travel south, Thomas had opened up about his internal conflict. He didn't want to be the type of lawyer who only helped the rich get richer. It was rich, coming from a rich man, true. The way he told it, much as he enjoyed the law, property acquisition held no place in his heart, so, when they got to Antarctica, and he'd asked her where she wanted to go next, she had no hesitation in telling him.

"You took me to the ends of the Earth, now it's time for you. I think you should do some practice in land rights, and I know just the place."

After separate stints home — she because Thomas insisted, and he because he'd essentially dropped his responsibilities and ran to South America — they'd set up in the city of Bucaramanga in the west of Colombia's Santander department. He'd gone to work as a volunteer lawyer and she as a private English teacher.

His father had not been happy. She knew this because of the heated conversations Thomas tried to hide.

They'll blame me, she thought and cringed.

"Love?" Thomas' words pulled her back to the present. His hands locked around hers and he pulled them to his mouth, kissing them as he studied her.

"No decent human being who knows you couldn't love you. My father lets off plenty of steam, but I've come to realise it's nothing more than hot air."

Nadia nodded and swallowed a lump. "It's just a bit confronting, is all."

"I know." He reached out and tucked a stray lock behind her ear. Her whole body tingled under his touch. "How are you — apart from that?"