"Do you remember our first night together?" Her voice was soft as she traced her finger along his collar bone and across his chest.
"With every fiber of my being," he replied equally softly.
"Me, too," she admitted shyly. "I remember waking up next to you, afraid I was dreaming."
He nodded his head. "I couldn't quite bring myself to believe you came back. I was so angry at you, but I couldn't let you go again."
She smiled up at him, and hugged him closer. "It's amazing how everything becomes clear when you think you have nothing to lose. Suddenly, I realized I had everything to lose, and all that mattered was you. Of all the things in my life, I couldn't lose you."
They were wrapped as tight as two bodies could get, holding their love between them. It was as tender a moment as they'd ever shared, but it felt right to reflect on their journey on the eve of starting a new one.
"You'll never lose me, Kate. Not then, and not now. That night was extraordinary for so many reasons, but mostly because nothing in my life has ever felt so incredibly right. I knew I'd never love anyone as much as I love you."
They snuggled together in the silence of the bedroom, both overcome by their confessions, but grateful to give voice to such private thoughts that too often remain silent. By their nature, they rarely said more than was necessary, but tonight, it felt like the normal rules of the universe were on hiatus. Their hearts were open and overflowing.
Finally, Castle spoke up again. "When you think back on the last six years, what memories come to mind first? What do you remember most?"
"Oh gosh," she sighed, "so much. I hate to think of all I've forgotten, because I want to remember it all. But there are so many moments I think back on, some happily, and some, well, not so much."
"Tell me about a happy one, something you don't think I remember." It was an odd request, but she was content to play along.
She was quite for a moment, then offered, "You had my dad's watch fixed, after my apartment blew up. Remember that?"
"Of course I remember that. Why would you think I wouldn't?"
She shook her head slightly before continuing ever so softly. "What you don't know is that after that day, I wore that watch as much as a reminder of you as my father. Every time I looked at it, I thought of you."
All he could manage was a whispered, "Wow." He had no idea. How could he? But he would never forget it now.
"Okay, your turn. Tell me something you remember."
He didn't have to think long. "On the lighter side, you snuck into a bathroom stall to read Heat Wave because you didn't want me to know you were reading it."
She barked a laugh as the memory came back to her. But at least she had the decency to lower her eyes sheepishly. "Guilty," she confessed, "but why do you remember that, of all things, so clearly?"
"Because you didn't want me to know you really wanted to read it, and I didn't want you to know how much I wanted you to read it."
She nodded in agreement, amused by their overactive pride. "We kept baiting each other," she recalled, "because I'd be damned before I fed your ego and admitted how much I enjoy your books."
"How much do you enjoy them?" he asked mischievously.
"Too much to admit to you," she retorted. "Now tell me something else."
He grinned as he laced their fingers together, stroking his thumb over hers.
"I did say 'Kate.'"
"What?" she asked, confused.
"When we were reading Joe the PI's journal during the case at the Pennybaker Club, I did say 'Kate's heart quickened,' not "Fate's.' I wanted it to be us in that story, falling in love and never looking back."
She smiled up at him and made her own confession in return. "I threw the bet."
His brows furrowed. "Bet? What bet? We made a bet about the journal?"
"No, the burlesque case a few years earlier. When you came back from the Hamptons and tried to weasel your way into my case, we made a bet."
"The counterfeiting! Yeah, I figured out what connected the three victims …" His voice faltered at her guilty smile. "No way!" he pre-empted, "You did not figure that out first!"
"I kinda did," she admitted. "I set up some bread crumbs so you'd figure it out and I'd be forced to let you stay."
He started at her. "You didn't want me gone?" he asked sincerely.
She shook her head. "I made the bet out of pride because I was so mad at you, but I missed you, too."
The memories of that time trickled back, foggy and unclear, but her anger, and his confusion over it, stuck out.
"I remember you were mad, but I never knew why. Was it just because I didn't call when I got back in town?"
His memories of that time might have dimmed, but hers were still crystal clear. After all, she had carried a lot of regret for her missed opportunity for a long time after that. Still, it was so long ago, and she supposed he deserved to know. What did it matter now, anyway? They had found their way despite that heartbreaking summer.
She bit her lip, committed now to sharing this particular secret. "I wasn't so much mad as hurt. I broke up with Tom Demming for you."
The silence was deafening. He was stunned. All he could manage was, "What do you mean?"
She looked away, but explained. "I realized couldn't be with him, because I would rather try being with you. You still annoyed me more often than not, but you made me smile, and if I was going to give someone a chance, I wanted it to be you."
He looked at her intently, trying to recreate that time so many years earlier. "I got back together with Gina because I didn't want to be some third wheel in your life. I didn't know."
She reached out to stroke his cheek. "There's no way you could have. I didn't give you any reason to think I was interested. It's not your fault, Castle. It wasn't our time, yet," she concluded philosophically.
"But maybe it could have been," he challenged.
"Maybe. But maybe we needed that extra time to learn more about each other, to strengthen our foundation so we'd have something solid to build on."
He leaned down and kissed her deeply. "If it got us here, then we can't regret a moment of it, can we?"
She brought her lips to his again. "I love you, Castle. It took me a long time to realize it, longer to admit it, but I've loved you for so long."
He looked at her intently, then quirked his lips ruefully and glanced away.
"What?" she asked.
He inhaled sharply, then sighed. "I was going to say I never doubted it, but then I realized I did, and I feel ashamed."
She knew immediately what he was referring to, and shared his shame. The weeks after he'd learned she'd lied about her memory of her shooting at Montgomery's funeral, and his subsequent confession of love, had nearly cost them everything. The wounds had long healed, but the memories were still there.
"Hey, we both messed up, remember? I didn't give you a whole lot to go on back then." She thought back to how she had felt then, barely recognizing the guarded, frightened person she had been. "Remember when you told me that I was too afraid to let myself be happy?"
He shook his head, no. "Well, you did, the night before Montgomery was shot. It ticked me off, but it stuck with me, because you were right. I didn't feel I had a right to be happy, because of my mother. I felt like it was a betrayal of her memory, and I was afraid I'd forget my mission if I ever let myself feel too content."
"Oh, Kate …" His voice was a whisper.
"That's why I lied. I don't think I ever told you that before. Somewhere, deep down, I knew I could be happy with you, truly happy, and I had to learn how to accept that. I wanted it so much, but it terrified me, and I was afraid of giving you false hope. It just made more sense at the time to wait until I could tell you everything."
He pressed his lips to the top of her head, "I'm sorry you never got the chance."
"I just did," she whispered back.
When his body covered hers, she welcomed him without hesitation. This is what she had suspected all those years ago – that her feelings for him, and his for her, would fill the emptiness in her heart. She had yearned for it, even as she feared it. And it had taken her months, years even, to fully embrace it. Now, as his wife, even the flimsiest of barriers was gone. For the first time in her adult life, she trusted, she loved, and she opened herself completely to another person. And through it all, she reveled in the unencumbered joy it brought her.
For Castle, making love with Kate on what was technically his third wedding night, seemed to unleash a cleansing power that wiped away the guilt and shame of his past, leaving him with nothing but unwavering conviction about their future together. Believing this time was different might sound like a cliché to some, but Castle knew in his bones it was true. Kate was the match he'd been waiting for.