What are you wearing?

Don't!

Don't what?

Don't start!

Don't start what?

You know how this is going to end and we said we wouldn't!

I just want to know what you're wearing. It's a perfectly innocent question.

It's never an innocent question with you

I just want to picture you.

No

Please?

No!

I miss you.

You saw me half an hour ago!

Still. It's so weird to sleep in the guest room.

I told you I'd sleep in the guest room if you wanted.

No, it's okay. I'm just lonely.

It's just one night :)

That's one night too many.

This was your idea!

I know. I know…

Why did you suggest it if you hate it this much?

It's tradition.

You're not exactly conventional in other aspects

I thought you would appreciate it if we did this right.

That's sweet of you

Also, I didn't think it would be this hard.

Get a grip ;)

You're right, we can do this.

Yes, we can :) Just one night, and then you'll never have to miss me again

Raquel?

Yes?

I can't wait to marry you.

There was a brief pause, and in his mind's eye, he could see her smile at her phone. Then his screen lit up again.

My love, I can't wait to marry you either. But now we have to stop this! We said we wouldn't see each other again until the wedding

But I'm not seeing you. Texting doesn't count.

Still

He took a deep breath. It was hard for him to be apart from her since it happened. Even still, even now, more than a year after she'd returned to him.

You'll have to help me through this.

How?

Tell me what you're wearing.

You, sir, are very persistent

Just very curious. And very much in love.

There had been a time when he hadn't told her that every day. He was never, ever going to make that mistake again. She texted back.

That's not fair! How can I say no to you when you play that card?

He smiled.

So you'll tell me?

It's not very exciting

I'll be the judge of that.

I'm just wearing pajamas

I assumed as much, but which ones?

Grey bottoms, black top

The black top with the lace at the edges?

Yes

'Nothing exciting', she says. Underwear?

No

An idea suddenly struck him.

Do you have special underwear for tomorrow?

I'm not telling you that

He grinned.

That's a yes! What color is it?

You'll have to find out for yourself tomorrow night :)

Now I won't be able to think of anything else all day tomorrow.

Glad to hear you have your priorities straight. You know. On your wedding day. When you're marrying me.

It's important to stay focused on the things that really matter on a day like that.

Like underwear?

Exactly.

He could hear her laugh from their bedroom across the hall, and at first it made him smile, but then it made him miss her more. He hesitated, then texted:

Will you send me a picture?

Of me or the underwear?

How about you really make my night and send me a combination of both?

Nice try :) But I can't send you a picture of myself, that would fall under the category of 'seeing each other'

Just the underwear then?

Also no. That's a surprise for our wedding night :)

So how long do you think we have to wait tomorrow before we can leave the party and get to the bedroom?

What do you propose?

5 to 10 minutes after the ceremony?

He heard her laugh again, then she replied:

Don't you think that would be rather rude?

Fine, 15 minutes.

I think it will be a fun party though!

Not as fun as what I have in mind for the two of us.

I'm all ears :) :) :)

I'm going to take off your dress very slowly.

Go on…

Then I'm going to take some time to admire that mythical underwear you keep teasing.

Good, it deserves to be admired!

Then I'm going to lay you down on the bed.

Ah, now things are getting interesting!

Then I'm going to kiss you for a very long time.

Where? :)

Everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.

I can't wait

Then I'm going to take off your underwear.

Okay, stop now, you're getting me turned on and we can't

I'm going to lie between your legs.

Stop it!

Then I'm going to go down on you.

Really?

Twice.

This isn't fair

I can't wait to taste you.

If you don't stop right now, I'm going to come over there and make you do it!

He grinned.

Be my guest.

For a moment, there was no reply, and he wondered if she was really going to give in. He rather hoped she would. Then his screen lit up again:

Don't tempt me!

But I like tempting you.

Noooooo, we're stronger than this!

Are we?

Yes we are!

He grinned.

Too bad.

We should go to sleep

I don't want to stop talking to you.

The faster we sleep, the faster it'll be tomorrow!

That is an excellent point. I can't wait.

Me neither. Goodnight my love

Goodnight.

He sighed and put down his phone on the bedside table, then he turned in the guest bed, trying to get comfortable, but everything felt wrong. The sheets were too crisp, and they smelled only of laundry detergent and not of her. The space next to him was cold and empty, the pillow blank. They hadn't slept apart a single night since he'd gotten her back, and lying in bed alone now was a painful reminder of the time when he'd thought she was… He shook his head and firmly pushed the thought away. It wasn't exactly fun to sleep without her, but it was only for one night, it was tradition and they'd agreed. So he took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind entirely so he could go to sleep. The faster this night was over, the better.

…

He woke up in the middle of the night, sweating, panting, from one of his regular nightmares about her dying. As always, he instinctively reached out to the place next to him, and he experienced such a stab of panic when he felt only emptiness. She's not here. He sat bolt upright and for a moment, his mind went into overdrive – it was true, she was dead, he'd only dreamt that she'd come back to him, and now he was waking up to reality – but then he remembered that they'd agreed to sleep apart and he let himself fall back into the pillows and ran a shaking hand over his eyes. Oh, he missed her like crazy, especially after a dream like that.

He was still taken aback every time he had those dreams, still so surprised by the utter shocking intensity of his feelings. After he'd found out she was alive, he'd thought he was fine… a little shaken, sure, but essentially fine. After all, she was alive, so there was no reason to grieve anymore, and there was the heist to deal with, his team in trouble, his love captured – so he'd pushed down all the pain and sadness and desperation he'd felt and focused all of his energy on solving the problems at hand. And at first he thought it had worked. Once he'd re-established control and started hitting them where it hurt, he felt like himself again, he felt powerful and in command of the situation, his emotions firmly under control, the way they should be.

And then the heist had ended, and she'd returned to him. The moment she was in his arms again, the moment he'd thought would be the happiest of his life, he'd suddenly felt such a tidal wave of emotions rise up inside him – love, grief, joy, despair, elation, and all the pain he'd pushed away so firmly, all at the same time – and it had swept him away and there was nothing he could do about it. Once they were safe again, his coping mechanisms no longer worked and he was confronted with every feeling he'd refused to deal with, all of them grown seemingly ten times stronger during their stay in his subconscious. And then there were the flashbacks, awful and intrusive and horribly vivid, playing before his mind's eye when he least expected it, making him unable to function for several minutes after. It had all been scary, it had been painful, it had been utterly overwhelming, but he'd never had to deal with it alone. Through it all, she'd always been by his side – and now she wasn't.

He glanced at the phone on his nightstand, then at his watch, and he shook his head. It was two a.m., he couldn't possibly text her now. He couldn't. He shouldn't. He wouldn't. He closed his eyes and two gunshots echoed through his head. He swallowed hard, trying to push away the memories, but they crowded into his mind mercilessly: running through the woods in utter desperation – sitting in that chair in the middle of the forest, numb, numb, numb with shock – crumbling to the ground, unable to breathe, tears streaming down his face. He'd thought he'd never hold her again – the memory of it made him ache to hold her now. Desperately. He reached out a hand and picked up his phone.

Are you awake?

It didn't take her long to reply.

I am now. What's wrong?

Nightmare. I'm sorry for waking you, I shouldn't have.

Don't apologize. I'm sorry you had a nightmare. Was it the same one again?

Yes. I miss you.

It's just one night, my love, after this we're going to have decades together

He hesitated. After what had happened last year, he didn't dare take anything for granted anymore – not days, not weeks, not years, and definitely not decades.

What if we don't?

We will

How can you be sure of that?

I just am

Aren't we being stupid, spending this night apart?

Of course not, it's only 24 hours. Sunset to sunset, we agreed

Raquel, he texted, his throat tight, when I thought you were gone last year, I would have given anything for an extra 24 hours.

Nothing like that will ever happen again

You don't know that. What if there comes a time when we regret these 24 hours we didn't spend together?

Darling, don't think about that now

How can I not? You're not here with me.

I'm only just across the hall

It doesn't matter where you are. You're not here with me.

He frowned at his phone, trying to put into words how he felt.

When you're not with me, Raquel, everything just feels wrong. A piece of me is missing, the most important piece. When I thought I'd lost you last year - he had to stop typing for a moment as the memory of it came screaming back to him, and he was ripped apart again, torn into ragged pieces, broken beyond repair - it hurt so much, and when you're not with me I feel it again. So forgive me for always wanting you now. Every single moment with you is precious to me and I can't believe we're wasting so many of them.

She didn't reply, and he wondered for a moment if he'd been too intense, but then his door flew open and the next moment she was in his arms. He was flooded with relief, and he held her so close he knew he must be hurting her, but she didn't complain. She just held him tightly in return and murmured:

"Oh my love. You're right, you're so right."

She knew exactly what he needed, lifting her face to his, and he kissed her, deeply, breathlessly, one hand in her hair, the other pressing her close to him. After dreams like this, he was so hungry for her, so desperately hungry, craving her mouth, her skin, her touch with an intensity that consumed him. He was lost and she brought him home, her kisses the only thing that drove away the memories, the nightmares, the pain. He had to reassure himself somehow that she was here, that she was real, and she seemed to understand that, because she never turned him away, no matter what time it was, no matter if she'd been sleeping. She held him and kissed him, and usually that was enough, but not tonight. The fact that she hadn't been there when he woke up had shaken him and he needed more – he wanted all of her, he wanted her completely.

She clearly felt it.

"Stupid pajamas", she grumbled, starting to take hers off, and he helped her, eager to remove these frustrating layers of fabric that separated them. A minute later, all clothes were gone and he sighed with bliss as she pressed her naked body to his, her skin silky and pliant under his hands as he touched her – oh, how he loved touching her, how soft and bright his world became when he could run his hands down her body, providing warm, solid proof that he was not, in fact, dreaming her. She came to lie on top of him, and he was so grateful for her weight pressing down on him, anchoring him back into reality, grateful that both of his hands were free so he could touch her as much as he wanted to, running them slowly up and down her back as she kissed him. Then he reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face, and she pulled back for a moment to look at him. His throat felt tight as he drank in her features, so lovely in the moonlight, her eyes liquid and dark. He cupped her face with one hand and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"You're here", he whispered.

"I'm here", she replied.

"I can't really believe it."

"Then let me prove it."

She reached down and stroked him, and he closed his eyes at her touch, but only for a second – he didn't want to stop looking at her. She let her fingers play over him, touching him delicately, lovingly, as she bent down and kissed him ever so sweetly, and with every stroke, every kiss, she was taking him further away from the nightmare and bringing him back to her. He sighed against her lips as her caresses made shivers run up and down his spine, making him tingle all over – how did she do that? How did she always know just what to do, just where and how to touch him – how did she make his skin sing under her fingers, make him feel like there was champagne bubbling in his chest, a sparkling, joyful flood of it? The first urgency of his need had faded with her comforting nearness, and now his desire for her was a warm glow in his chest and lower belly, a sweet taste on his lips, a tingling in his fingertips. He twined his fingers into her hair and pulled her down for another kiss, and another, and another, feeling like he could never get enough of her, feeling like a lifetime wouldn't be enough to kiss all the kisses he wanted to kiss.

"Raquel", he murmured. "Never let me go."

"I won't", she said softly. "That's why I'm marrying you tomorrow, remember?"

Her fingers suddenly closed around him and he gasped at the stab of pure longing that shot through him.

"Do you want me?" she whispered.

"Always", he replied breathlessly. "I always, always want you."

She guided him in and it was pure bliss when she sank down on him, warm and soft around him, and he groaned and reveled in the feeling as she shifted her hips and took him in as deep as she could, biting her lip.

"Oh", she moaned softly. "Oh, that feels good."

He could only nod in agreement, unable to speak. The next moment, she sat up and started moving her hips, and the sight of her was riveting – he couldn't take his eyes off her if he tried… and he wasn't trying. Her skin was luminous in the moonlight, silvery and smooth, her hair streaming over her shoulders, her body moving on top of him in a way that was almost unbearably sensual. She was loveliness personified, she was desire made flesh, she was his wildest dream come true – a dream he prayed he would never wake up from. Never, never, never. He caressed her hips as she moved, slowly, languorously, taking her time to savor the sensations, and he was enchanted by her expression: her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her entire face lit up with pleasure. Beautiful. Then she opened her eyes and smiled at him, a smile that struck him in the middle of his chest, sparking such a sense of wonder that it took his breath away. How was she real? How was she his?

He was suddenly overwhelmed with a searing longing to hold her, to feel her skin warm against his, so he caught her wrist and pulled her down on top of him.

"Stay close to me", he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, and she nodded and kissed him as she pressed her body against his. Having her in his arms, their bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, was simply heaven, and he felt dazed with the bliss of it. She lifted her head a little to look into his eyes as her fingers stroked his cheek, and he thought: this is it. If he could live forever in one moment, he might just choose this one, as close to her as he could possibly be – he wanted to live forever in her tender touches, in her softness, in that look in her eyes which said: you. I choose you.

She quickened the pace of her movements and slipped a hand between them, closing her eyes with a soft moan as she touched herself. He tightened his arms around her and bucked his hips to take her deeper, thoroughly enjoying the little cries that escaped her lips every time he did so. He kept his eyes on her face – oh, how he loved seeing her like this, completely lost in the feeling, and soon… soon… yes, he felt her tense against him, her breath coming in gasps, and then she buried her face in the crook of his neck and he held her as she started shaking, moaning against his skin as the feeling washed over her. There was nothing sexier to him than the thought of her pleasure, and, as always, witnessing it was enough to make him gasp as he teetered on the edge for a moment – and then a single soft kiss against his neck made him fall, joyfully, his face in her hair, his arms tight around her as a glorious fire swept through him, a fire only she could light in him, hot and bright and golden and all-consuming.

When the feeling faded, he was left with a deep, tingling glow of satisfaction and a soft, breathless Raquel in his arms, and he turned his face to kiss her cheek. That made her smile and lift her head to kiss him back, and they lost themselves for a while in the warm comfort of those kisses, unwilling to break the little bubble of their closeness. Finally she lifted her head to look down at him.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Infinitely", he whispered. "But don't go back to your bed. Stay with me. Please."

"Of course", she said tenderly. "Of course I will."

He sighed in relief as she slid off him and cuddled close, and he wrapped an arm around her as she put her head in the hollow of his shoulder.

"What were we thinking, trying to sleep apart. What a ridiculous idea."

"I didn't think it was still this bad", she said softly, stroking his chest. "You hadn't had that nightmare in a while."

"I thought it was better", he agreed. "I thought I could do it. But not having you near me was… difficult."

"Let's not do it again, then."

She turned her face to kiss his shoulder, and he hugged her tighter. They were quiet for a while, then she said:

"Are you ready for the wedding?"

"I suppose… It still doesn't feel real. I can't really believe that it's actually going to happen."

She smiled. "Well, believe it. Tomorrow you're all mine."

"I'm already yours."

"But then it will be official." She grinned. "I'll have the paperwork to prove it."

She paused for a moment, then asked carefully: "You're not going to change your mind at the last minute, are you?"

He looked at her, stunned. "Excuse me? Raquel, do you grasp the sheer physical impossibility of what you just said? I mean… Could I change my mind about breathing? Could I wake up tomorrow and just decide I don't need oxygen anymore?" He shook his head and grumbled: "Change my mind… I don't know where you get your ideas, woman."

She smiled broadly and kissed him, her fingers stroking his beard. Then he gave her a sharp look.

"Are you going to change your mind?"

"Of course not", she said simply, and he nodded in satisfaction. That was all he needed to hear.

Now that she was in the bed with him, the world felt right again, and as he gently drifted off to sleep, he knew there would be no nightmares this time. His last conscious thought was that he couldn't wait for tomorrow.

…

What are you wearing?

You know what I'm wearing

I don't, you wouldn't let me see it.

You know that's bad luck

Don't tell me you really believe that.

Let me put it this way: after everything we've been through the past year, I'm not risking it

Fair point.

He fidgeted in his chair. He'd been ready for a while, and trying to keep his nerves in check wasn't easy. Somehow, he kept expecting something to go wrong – expecting a sudden typhoon, an earthquake, a tsunami. Or worse: expecting her to change her mind after all. Expecting to wake up out of what must, must be a dream, a golden, sun-drenched, year-long hallucination. How could this happiness possibly be his? He needed to distract himself.

Please tell me what you're wearing

Well, you'll never expect this, but… it's a white dress :)

Describe it to me.

Wouldn't you rather it be a surprise?

I don't like surprises.

I think you'll like this one :)

He smiled. He didn't doubt he would, but he decided to tease her a bit.

What if I hate it?

Then you better goddamn pretend you don't!

He chuckled.

Please describe it to me.

Why?

I'd like to build a picture of you in my mind. Just give me a little detail.

It's got little flowers at the hem

He smiled.

We should never not have been married, you know. Today we're finally correcting that.

Took you long enough to ask me!

He grimaced.

I was a fool. Forgive me.

How will you make it up to me? :)

Breakfast in bed every day?

I don't think that will cut it

Flowers?

Nope

Jewelry?

Don't insult me

He laughed, then texted:

How about I just love you forever?

He could feel her smile in her reply:

Deal!

Then she texted:

Doing my makeup now. See you out there

He regretfully put down his phone and settled for staring out the window. He was alone in the room. His best man should have been with him, but he had refused to choose a best man – that role should have been his brother's, and he didn't want anyone else standing next to him on this day. He suddenly wished Andrés could have been here – he was always calm, always cool and collected. He would have known what to say to soothe the nerves of his little brother. Instead, he just stared at his watch, eagerly watching the seconds tick away. That was ten seconds less of not being married to her… twenty seconds less… thirty seconds less… Finally, when the sky outside started turning a glorious shade of red, he got up, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

…

He walked out onto the beach in front of their house, and he was so full of anticipation to see her, that he only had vague impressions of everything else – the sunset, torches, lots of flowers, music, the smiling faces of the members of the gang, all of whom had flown out to be here with them. Paula with flowers in her hair. Marivi, absent-minded but smiling. The bridesmaids, Tokyo and Monica, coming out of the house. It all blended together in his mind to a bright, multi-colored blur of shapes and sounds, meaningless, unimportant, making him slightly dizzy. Then a spot of white appeared out on the porch, and his vision steadied immediately – the world sharply came into focus again, and there she was – his anchor, his polestar, the warm, beating heart at the very center of his existence. The one thing in life he would always see clearly. Raquel.

The dress was lovely, but in the end all that mattered were her eyes. They were shining more brightly than he had ever seen them shine before, and his breath caught in his throat as she came up to him, a dream, a picture, a vision in white, luminous and perfect. Then she was next to him, and for a moment it was just the two of them, alone on this beach, as she looked up at him with a radiant smile and he knew, with a bone-deep sense of certainty, that he belonged to her already. The ceremony was merely a formality. With or without it – now and forever, he was utterly, completely and irrevocably hers, and she was his, and he couldn't imagine anything more perfectly right than that.

For a little while, he'd had to face the thought of having to live without her, and it had been the darkest time of his life. Looking back on it, it felt like he had spent years in the shadows after hearing those gunshots, instead of the few hours it had really been. But now she was with him again – she would always be with him – and the darkness was forever chased away by the dazzling light of her presence. Here she stood, by his side, right where she belonged, and she promised in front of their family that she would never leave him again, and he felt his heart soar. Never had any words been sweeter to him, never had he experienced anything like the fierce rush of emotions that swept through him as he heard them – never had he been happier.

He couldn't look away from her as the ceremony went on, most of it a meaningless buzzing in his ears.

Then he heard the words he'd been waiting for.

He stepped closer, gathered her in his arms, and kissed his wife.