Just Like Her

Chapter 104

Emma

Glitter and paper hearts everywhere.

It was Lizzie's birthday and she demanded everything (and everyone) be pink and sparkly for the occasion.

Cynthia had been over when we got the Matilda's text explaining the evening's dress code. She was immediately appalled and had been in the midst of responding to her sister with a fiery text regarding gender roles when I asked her if she would go shopping with me to find an appropriate outfit.

Tom's eyes danced with amusement as he watched her typing speech bubble disappear from the group chat.

Cynthia had shrugged and said she'd "be willing." Apparently that translated to clearing her schedule for the entire next day to take me to her favorite boutiques.

Tom grinned when I'd come home with arms full of bags.

"I wasn't the only one who missed you," he said knowingly.

My throat closed up so suddenly, I only managed a nod before heaving the bags into the bedroom.

Because of Lizzie's insistence on the sparkly décor, family dinner was held at Matilda and André's townhome in order to spare the palace's rugs the affront of forever glittering.

I grinned as I watched Cynthia—decked out in a shimmering leotard and tutu fit for a prima ballerina—flick a fallen piece of confetti from her shoulder.

Charlie—who had skipped his now regular weekend trip to Manchester in order to join in the celebration—tapped Cynthia innocently on the shoulder. She glared over her shoulder just in time for him to blow a handful of confetti in her face. She nearly launched on him when Tom's father wrapped his arms around both of them and steered them off toward the drink cart.

I'd missed Cynthia, too. I'd missed all of them.

It hit me then, as I watched Lizzie ride Tom around the furniture like a horse. Francis, of course, pretended to be a copper and attempted to pull them over for riding without a license.

Eliza and Matilda sat together on a nearby settee whispering quietly while André, across the room, laughed none too quietly at something Robert had said.

Robert hardly paid attention though, as his focus was entirely on the door Margaret had gracefully glided through on her way to puke in the loo.

Even King Henry was in attendance. His wife smacked his hand as he reached for a sweet laid out on the elaborately constructed buffet.

A silent laugh bubbled up from my chest.

They were my family.

It was ridiculous—totally and completely absurd. And yet... it was the truth.

It'd been over two weeks since Tom had made his confession, and I still hadn't quite gotten over the overwhelming sense of relief I'd felt at his words.

Six months ago if someone had told me what he'd done, relief would have been the last thing I'd have expected to feel. Rage maybe. Resentment. Panic even.

But today was entirely different world than it had been six months ago.  And I felt an entirely different person.

After losing so much and very nearly losing him, too... It felt like I could finally breathe again knowing he was still there—still waiting, still wanting me, still loving me despite it all.

In the end I only had one condition:

"Marry me."

I didn't get to say more than that because the moment the words were out of my mouth his lips were on mine.

The kiss was frantic and wet. My arms clung to his neck as he hoisted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist.

We didn't break apart until the back of his knees hit the foot of the bed, and even then it was only for a moment until he flipped us over and covered every inch of my body with his.

I twisted the ring on my finger—the proper finger, now. Tom had insisted on buying me another ring, but I'd refused. This had always been my engagement ring. I'd never want another.

My brows furrowed as my eyes scanned the room.

There was something missing, I knew it but I couldn't quite put my finger on what—

"I heard about your little friend," Gran announced from beside me.

I jumped slightly and then willed myself to stand still and just breathe.

One, two, three, four...

"Tommy strictly forbade any of us from mentioning her around you."

My eyes flickered to Tom, who was currently neighing and attempting a high speed pursuit with Francis close at his heels.

Gran tsked. "Nonsense I say."

My eyes rounded on her as I fought to form words—any words—that would make her stop talking.

Today was supposed to be a happy day, a celebration of life and Lizzie. I couldn't let me grief ruin it. My mind began racing at warp speed until it practically short circuited at her next declaration.

"Your little friend sounds like a true Sophia."

I openly gaped at Gran as she lifted her wrinkled chin proudly.

"And a Sophia damn well deserves to be spoken of."

I felt the cool trail of the tear as it rolled down my cheek. "I..."

I forced myself to swallow painfully and try again.

"I-I think she'd quite agree with you," I whispered shakily.

Gran nodded in agreement, and I thought the interaction was over... that is until I felt the coolness of her hand slip over mine. She gave it a tight squeeze before letting go and shuffling into the chaos of the room.

I tried to be present and cheerful for the rest of the party, but I couldn't. Tom picked up on the change the moment we sat down and held my hand under the table throughout the entire meal. As soon as it was possible, he made our excuses and whisked me out of there.

In the car on the way home, he asked me repeatedly what had happened but I merely shook my head in response. My head wasn't in the conversation.

It wasn't even in this universe.

The second Tom opened the door to the flat, I made a b-line for the bookcase where my journal sat waiting. I settled at the kitchen table and immediately flipped it open.

I picked up a discarded pen and began to write.

February changed to March, which in the natural way of things, gave way to April then May.  And as the winter skies cleared and the spring flowers budded, the heavy aching inside my chest gave way, too. Little by little as the pages of our journal filled with scribbled dialogues and patched-together settings.

It wasn't perfect—least of all the ending—but it was extraordinary.

Just like her.

[A/N: ❤️

This final gratitude shout out is to YOU, my dear reader. THANK YOU for joining Emma and Tom on their journey, for seeing them through 💕]