September 5, 2055
Coffee and Castle.
They were the first things she became aware of as she drifted into wakefulness. The same things she'd woken to so many times over the course of their relationship. Sometimes it was with Castle asleep next to her and the coffee brewing in the kitchen. Sometimes it was with Castle awake next to her, holding out a steaming mug prepared just the way she liked it. Sometimes it was to the sounds of Castle puttering around in the kitchen while the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the early morning air of their house.
Today it was Castle in bed next to her, offering her a mug of coffee, his own in the other hand and a gift bag resting on his lap. And also a giant bouquet of bright red nasturtium bursting from a vase on her nightstand.
"Morning," he whispered, eyes sparkling with excitement in the early morning light.
"Mmmm, morning," Kate murmured, the words turning into a groan as she stretched her hands over her head, banishing the stiffness of sleep from her limbs. Her muscles were tighter now than they used to be and it always took a little longer for her to get going in the mornings.
But her husband, it seemed, was wide awake and grinning eagerly. Kate closed her eyes for one more long moment of peace before forcing them open again and slowly working herself into a seated position.
"Happy anniversary," Castle proclaimed as she settled back against the headboard and relieved him of the second mug of coffee.
"Mmmm, you too," she mumbled around a delicious sip of the hot liquid.
"I got you something." He wriggled the gift bag that sat on his thighs, red and gold and shimmery with crinkled sheets of white tissue paper sticking out the top.
Kate savored another long sip of coffee before setting her mug on the nightstand next to the beautiful flowers and taking the proffered bag. Castle looked on impatiently as she sifted through the tissue paper and reached inside.
Her fingers closed around a solid but soft object, smooth beneath her fingers. She eased the tissue paper out of the way to find a journal. The color was a darker shade of brown than their current one and the spiral binding was gold, but it was undoubtedly a replacement journal for the one he'd recently filled.
And wrapped around it, gently tucked in place, was a beautiful ruby necklace.
"Babe, it's gorgeous," Kate breathed, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp. The chain eventually fell loose and she lifted the stunning pendant to admire it in the rays of morning sunlight.
"Here," Castle extended an open hand.
Kate gently placed the necklace into his palm and he fiddled with the clasp for a moment before draping it around her neck and securing it in place. She smoothed two fingers over the beautiful dark red stone while Castle situated the chain against the back of her neck.
"I love it," she whispered. "Thank you."
"Open the journal," Castle murmured in reply.
"What?"
He nodded to the notebook resting beside them on the sofa. "Open it."
Kate reached for the spiral bound notebook, gently flipped back the cover to reveal the first page. It was filled with Castle's familiar handwriting, the top line dated today.
Dear Kate,
Forty years. I can't wrap my mind around that number. We've been married for forty years.
How is it possible that much time has passed since our wedding day? It seems like so much more, and yet also so much less, than forty years has passed since you slid that ring onto my finger and promised to love me forever.
You know as well as I do that I never could have imagined this future for myself before we met or even for the first few years after we met. I know you never foresaw this future either. But we are proof positive that if the right two people find each other and truly believe in something, then anything is possible.
I remember a conversation I once had, so many years ago, with Captain Montgomery about his and Evelyn's anniversary, where he quipped that if I'd ever stayed married long enough I'd understand how it can be difficult to figure out what to get your spouse for an anniversary gift. I know he meant it as a joke and probably never expected me to remember it all these years later, but his words struck a chord with me. He was right; I'd never stayed married long enough to reach that point. And as much as I detested the concept of marriage at that time in my life, I think some small part of me yearned for that opportunity and that's why his words rang so true.
I finally did it. I finally reached that point where it's a struggle to know what to get you for birthdays and Christmas and anniversaries. I always prided myself on being a gift ninja, but my gift-giving skills have become decidedly less ninja-like the longer we've been married. He was right. It's hard. It's our fortieth anniversary and I have absolutely no idea what to get you.
If you're going through the same struggle, please know that the fact that I've spent forty years loving and being loved by you is the only gift I could ever need. We've had our trials and tribulations, we've had our moments of doubt and frustration, we've had our fair share of fights. But the overwhelming summation of the last forty years is that it's been amazing. It's been everything I ever could have envisioned and then some. It's been the journey of a lifetime.
Thank you for taking my hand all those years ago and diving into this journey with me. There's no one in the world I'd rather have by my side.
Happy anniversary, Kate.
I love you.
Rick
"Love you too, Babe," she murmured against his lips before sealing her words with a kiss.
She didn't know how many years they had left; after all, Castle was fast approaching ninety and she was nearing eighty. But she was thankful for every moment they'd been granted thus far, and she was determined to enjoy every moment that remained.
"Always."
Thoughts?