Page 118 of The Ring
Right now, I want to feel everything.
I cry until there’s nothing left, until I’ve let it all out. As I finally stop, I hear someone enter the room. I get up and turn around, expecting to see one of the workers, but instead it’s TJ.
He’s dressed in black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black leather jacket, looking so handsome. Under one arm, he’s carrying what looks like a tube for storing blueprints.
He frowns. “What are you doing here?”
“I—” I pause, unsure how to answer, wiping away the last traces of tears. “I wanted to see the house.”
He nods, his expression softening as he takes a step closer.
“How did you manage to fix all the damage downstairs? The couch was supposed to be one of a kind,” I ask, still stunned by everything.
“I told the designer a little accident happened. I sent it backto New York, and he was kind enough to replenish it,” he explains, glancing around the room.
I take a step closer to him. “And all the other things? How did you replace everything?”
“It took a while, but I remembered where we got a lot of the stuff. And for the rest, I had photos and did a reverse Google search.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, but to me it’s everything.
“That must have been a full-time job,” I reply, awe creeping into my voice.
He smiles faintly. “I didn’t mind.”
I feel a lump forming in my throat.I’m sorry,I think. But the words don’t make it out.
“What do you think about the rest of the house?” he asks, stepping closer, closing the space between us.
I move towards him too, like we’re magnets, like we’ve always been. I’ve tried to deny the pull he has on me for so long.
I don’t now.
I could be on the other side of the galaxy from him and still feel this pull.
I don’t know how much of the upstairs is finished since I didn’t see it, but I’m certain the rest of the house is as perfect as this room. With confidence, I answer, “It’s perfect. Every single detail.”
We’re so close, we’re almost touching. I look up at him, and he looks down at me. He lowers his head, bringing it closer to mine. His nose brushes mine. We’re so close that the smallest movement would make our lips meet. But then, he pulls away, looking like he hated doing it. He shakes his head, running a hand through his brown hair. “If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
With one long step—though my mind is yelling no—I listen to my heart and close the gap he put between us. “Then don’tstop,” I murmur, pressing my lips against his. He cups my face in his hands, letting the tube slip to the floor, and kisses me back. I thread my fingers through his hair. It’s not gentle—it’s fierce, raw like we’ve been starving for so long and finally we’re devouring what we’ve longed for.
I lovehim.
I’ve been so fixated on the one bad thing he did that I forgot the million good ones.
Like how he has always been there for me.
Like how he knows all my favourite things.
Like how he does these kind things without expecting anything in return.
Like this house—he did it not to impress me or to get me back. If he had, he would have mentioned it by now. He did all of this because, while I had given up on us, he never did. This house is proof of that.
Chapter 69
TJ
Iopen the door to my bedroom and slip inside, holding two coffee mugs. A smile spreads across my face at the sight before me—beneath the covers, bathed in morning light, lies asleep the most beautiful girl in the world.
We didn’t stop at kissing in the townhouse. We christened the bedroom, then the closet, then the bathroom. It wasn’t how I expected it to happen, but I can’t complain. After all that, we ended up in my flat and had sex again.
