There Will Be Freedom

6. Hills of Monticello

"The more vocal Justin is bound to get in more trouble."

"That's true."

Standing in front of me was a woman, not the girl I met four years ago and I loved her now more than I did then. Of course, that brought up the question of marriage. Isn't that what people did when they were in love? According to societal standards, I was supposed to have a ring on my finger and 2.5 kids by now. I was behind.

I did plan on marrying Maddie one day. It was different now that I was older and could realize that marriage wasn't the end of the world. I wasn't sure exactly how I was supposed to be a good husband, though. Maddie was the only person that made me doubt myself and the thought of being her spouse just complicated things in my head. To be honest, it wasn't the marriage itself that bothered me as much as the actual wedding did.

Fucking suits, fucking white dresses, fucking cake, fucking first dances, fucking wedding...

My stomach churned just thinking about it.

But I did understand her point of view. Most women thought about that stuff, right? They wanted a big wedding with the flower girls and soft strings playing in the background and a nice reception.

Disgusting.

I don't know why I had such an aversion to that stuff, but I couldn't help it. I guess I was just programmed that way. I would suck it up for Maddie. Did she want all that? I was afraid to ask.

"It's so weird seeing you in real clothes," I stated and wanted to mentally slap myself. I was working on being more romantic. Out of all the things I could say to her, that was it?

Stupid, Justin!

She snorted in laughter. "I was going to say the same thing to you. This suit is nice."

"Armani, of course."

"Of course." She finished with my tie and fixed my jacket, "You look incredibly dapper and handsome."

After all that time on the beach, wearing bathing suits and shorts, seeing myself in a suit was kind of a shock. My black get-up was nicely pressed and had the smell of new fabric. I hadn't worn something like this in years, and I tried to roll my shoulders around, getting the feel for it.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked unexpectedly.

"Sure," Her face started to move towards mine.

Our lips met and as they always did, connected with a spark that I would never tire of feeling. My hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. Today was a day for soft kisses and the sexual fire stayed at bay because we both knew we didn't have time for anything more. When she moaned and her hands traveled up my chest, I pulled away.

She was gloriously breathless, as was I.

"You still make me melt." Maddie whispered, "I can't help it."

"Good," I smirked, "You're falling for my plan nicely."

"I've already fallen." Maddie kissed me once again before pulling away completely, "How are you doing?" She asked, looking at me in the mirror.

"I'm waiting for it to hit me. Shouldn't I cry?" I reached for the bag on the counter and took a couple of anti-anxiety pills.

She shrugged. "Some people don't. I remember when we went to Grandma Fell's funeral, Freddie didn't produce one tear. He cried more when he closed his finger in the car door."

"Nicola wouldn't want me to cry. He'd tell me to celebrate his fucking life because he was better than God." I chuckled at the memory of him actually uttering that phrase a couple of times.