Page 139 of Timelessly Ours
Royce
Nicky,
These remind me of the night we claimed each other to the world. Okay, maybe it was just to a handful of people at the gala and some cocktail servers in that back hallway. But I loved the smell of lilac on you. It’s sweet, powdery, delicate, yet quite distinct. There’s no mistaking it.
They may not be your favorite, but maybe it will remind you how deeply I’ve fallen under your spell and nothing you can ever do will change that.
Love always,
Royce
The other day, I sent Angel over to the house with Rory’s Christmas presents. It’s just a few days away and I want her as excited as a six-year-old should be.
It’s been three days since my last bouquet and my heart sinks at the idea he might be giving up.
Especially after my last message. I probably sounded so ungrateful.
Nicole: They’re all beautiful. And smell incredible. But not quite for me.
At exactly eight p.m. my doorbell rings. My heart leaps. It’s another delivery. It has to be. Maybe he was just waiting until the aroma in my apartment subsided before sending more.
But it’s not Josh the delivery boy.
It’s Royce standing on the other side of the door.
His beard has grown in a bit…more salt than pepper. His eyes are warm but tired. His expression—full of hope.
He’s holding another gift for me but not a flower arrangement. It’s a basket with an assortment of green and white boxes and a mistletoe stuffed in the middle.
He stretches it out for me. “What about these?”
I reach out and lift the bar of soap and it smells… like him. That cedar and earthy musk with a hint of sage.
My eyes water. “Yes,” I breathe. “This is it.” I push my door open for him.
He steps in and sets down the basket of soaps and lotions. I hold my breath as he releases his and removes his shoes and jacket, then steps into my living room. His hair is wet from the snow. His cheeks flushed. His eyes as blue as ever.
His voice is rough when he speaks. “I was never angry with you. I was angry, yes, but…” His jaw tightens. “It was at Claire for violating your privacy. At myself for driving her to it. The idea that you were followed and fucking photographed all because”—he swallows—“because of the threat I made at the gala…about Angel.” He closes the distance and takes my hands. “I put you in that situation and I’m so sorry for taking it out on you. You didn't need soup—you needed me, you needed reassurance. Deep down I knew that and I denied you of it."
I release a breath that feels weeks old. It's everything I didn't know I needed to hear. Except… I scrunch my nose. "I did need that soup."
"I know you needed the soup, but I rehearsed it with the soup, and not saying it would have thrown me off."
I huddle over in laughter and look back at him with tears. "You rehearsed for me?"
"And I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He chuckles.
I shrug coyly. “I never thanked you for standing up for me.”
"You never have to." He strokes my cheek. “My loyalty and trust will always be with you. I love you, Nicole.” He kneels in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Have this baby with me. Let me be your husband and give you the life you were always meant to have.”
My eyes blink fast and burn with tears.
I exhale a whimper and fall into his arms, lifting my chin, and letting his mouth find mine. He lifts my shirt and pulls it over my head. “I want you, Nicole. An eternity with you.”
“Show me. Please show me how much you want me.”
He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Lifting me, he carries me to the sofa that’s already covered in blankets I’ve been using to stay warm.