Thirty

Milo

I have walked the length of this dock a hundred times over, pacing from the shore to the very edge as the evening sun slips below the lake's surface in the distance.

Left standing in the dark, I lie down flat on my back, watching the orange of the sunset melt into the darkened sky above as my heart threatens to burst out of my chest.

The devastating reality is, Prue might not come.

This might be too far past repair, her trust in me bent beyond fixing.

And I may have to live with that, for the rest of my life.

There's a chance that I will have to wake from my dreams of her to face the lonely reality of her absence every day from now until forever.

And I would do it, happy in the torture.

I would let my heart break over and over again just to have moments in my sleep spent with her.

I would carry the pain with me every day: what it meant to have something perfect, act a fool, and lose it.

I'd learn from it, I hope.

And, even if she doesn't come today, I'll be here tomorrow and all the tomorrows I have after that. I cannot imagine a world in which these feelings for her would fade, or allow me to give up hope that someday, she'll walk down those jagged steps and put me out of my misery.

And I intend to earn her trust, her forgiveness, and her heart all over again, if she'll let me.

I need to tell her all of that.

A twig snaps in the distance, and I sit up urgently, looking all around for any trace of her.

But I find nothing. I sit, my legs stretched out in front of me and leaning back onto my palms, as I watch the trees bend to the wind.

I count the calls of the nearby loons until I reach twenty.

I check my phone a dozen times, minutes stretching like hours as I sit waiting, my heart in my hands.

The cicadas sing hymns to my misery. The mostly still lake laps gently against the dock, acting like a ticking clock. All the while, my mind races.

Then, a lantern appears at the top of the hill. And the golden silhouette of my rusalka comes into my vision. She's somehow even more hauntingly beautiful than the first time I saw her, now having gone from siren to savior.

I stand to attention, watching her carefully descend each step.

"When I thought of torturing you a little bit and making you wait," she says, reaching the last step as I move toward her without thought, "I did forget how scary the steps are in the—"

Her words end when I wrap her in my arms, lifting her up off the ground. "You came."

"I did."

"I am so sorry, Prue."

She relaxes into my arms, holding the lantern out to the side as her other arm wraps around my shoulders. "I know," she tells me softly. "I know you are."

"I was an idiot."

"Big time."

"The biggest of all time," I agree, lowering her to stand gently.

I reach for her free hand and take it in mine.

"I didn't think it through. I didn't…I wanted your dad to like me and…

" I shake myself. "I've been sitting here for hours thinking of what I need to say and now you're here and my mind is blank but, fuck, Prue, I was a complete idiot and you, you're perfect and I don't deserve it but—"

"Milo, we've got time," she says, smiling softly at me. "Take a breath."

I do, inhaling for a long second as I admire the way her hair falls off her shoulder, and exhaling as I thank the breath passing out of my lungs and all that surrounds it that she's going to give me one more shot.

"Thank you for coming," I say, moving my hand to my chest before dropping it to my side. "Fuck, I really was starting to think you weren't going to show."

"Then what?" she asks, tilting her head. "What would you have done?"

"I would've come back tomorrow."

She smirks. "You'd do that?"

"I'd do anything, " I confess. "Anything," I repeat, squeezing her hand in mine, as if to check that she's real.

I'm lost in her eyes, forgetting the cleverly constructed apology I'd attempted to script last night and today.

"I'm sorry, Prue. I should have told you.

I should have told you so many things. If I could go back and fix it, I would.

Even if Tom ended up hating me. Even if it changed everything… I'd make it right if I could."

She nods cautiously, her warm eyes not leaving mine for a second. I thank her, silently, for that. For the reassurance in her gaze.

"And I know I'm a work in progress. I know that I've got so much to learn and fix and figure out and, fuck, I can be a real dumbass, clearly.

I know that you could do a whole lot better but, Prue, I'm being selfish anyway.

I'm asking if you'd settle for me. If you'd have me, foolish, inexperienced heart and all. "

Prue laughs, reaching up to brush my cheek with her hand. "Milo…" She shakes her head, smiling widely. "We are both far from perfect. We both hide. We both run. We both have a lot of learning to do…But there's no one else I'd rather learn with."

"Really?" I ask, hope flooding my voice.

"Really," she says, setting the lantern down beside her.

"Can you forgive me?"

"I can. Of course I can."

"I don't deserve it."

"I think you deserve a whole lot more than you give yourself credit for," she says as I press my lips to her wrist. "And, as much as it hurt to find out the way I did, you weren't responsible for that. You were asked to keep a secret, and you did. You're good, Milo. You're a good man."

"I'll try to be," I say, nodding urgently. "I swear I'll earn your trust back."

"You've got it." She tugs me down with a grip on my sweater before hugging me tightly. "It might make me foolish too, but I do trust you, Milo."

I breathe her in, holding on to the back of her head with shaking hands.

"So, did you mean it?" she asks softly, leaning back in my embrace to look up at me. "You're really going to stay? This little town could be enough for you?"

I lay my hand over her heart. "I'm staying," I tell her. "Wherever you are," I whisper, "is enough for me."

"What does…" She bites her lips, pressing them together as her expectant eyes search mine. "What does that mean exactly ?"

I smile at her, uncontrollably wide as I realize what she wants to hear, the three words I've been desperate to give her.

"It means I love you, Prudence Welch. It means that you are my biggest adventure yet. It means not running anymore, in order to become the man you deserve. It means that you are my home—the one I want forever."

"Okay, good!" she says, nearly laughing. "I was really hoping you'd—"

I kiss her. I kiss her with all the love in my chest that'd been begging to break out, letting it flow between us in a way words alone cannot convey.

"I love you too," she whispers against my mouth, brushing her thumb across my bottom lip to keep it from interrupting her. She giggles when I hoist her up, wrapping her legs around my hips as her hands find either side of my face.

"Say it again," I say, my smile mirrored by hers.

"I love you, Milo Kablukov. I love you exactly as you are."

Her words burrow a hole in my chest, slightly painful as they land but a relief just the same. "Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you." We kiss again as I sway our bodies side to side.

"Thank you, " she repeats softly. Her fingers toy with the ends of my hair, fussing with the curled ends as I continue to hold her close to me.

I'm overwhelmed by a sense of peace, as if the ground underneath me is solid and welcoming for the first time in a long, long while. I realize then it's because I have the world in my arms that I no longer want more of it.

"Whatever comes, Prue, I promise I'm going to be right here."

"Whatever comes," she swears back to me, kissing me just once. "Now…take me inside." Her fingertips find my jaw, then my cheeks, steadying my face in her hands. "I want you to show me just how much you love me," she says playfully, a small smirk finding its rightful place.

I press my thumb into the edge of her grin, nodding. "I can do that. Easy."

I help her up the rocky steps, holding her hand in mine and the lantern in my other.

She stops a few times, usually when she's a step ahead, and kisses me, using the extra height to her advantage.

I love it, the way she cannot go more than a minute without her lips on mine.

I feel the exact same way, possessed by my need of her.

Once at the studio's door, she drops my hand to punch in the passcode. I place the lantern down, and fill my hands with her hips, tugging her back into me. She giggles, opening the door as I pull her in close and nibble at her ear.

"I love your laugh," I say, spinning her around as the door shuts behind us.

Her lamps are on upstairs, and my eyes take a second to adjust before Prue's beauty is visible to me once again.

"I love your face," I add, placing my hand under her chin.

"I love your smile, and your frowns, and your fucking-with-me grins most of all."

She blushes at my words but doesn't try to hide her face as she walks us backward toward the staircase leading to the loft.

"I love that too," I say, brushing my thumb over the pink hue across her cheeks.

I follow her up the stairs, watching her hips sway as we go.

"I love these," I say, reaching out to take hold.

"And this," I say, bringing my hands down to squeeze her ass.

She giggles once more, looking over her shoulder to face me as she tugs her sweater off over her head, and tosses it over the railing.

She's bare underneath, no shirt or bra, and I lick my lips at the sight.

When she reaches her bedroom, she turns toward me and walks backward, showing off her perfect tits.

"And you know how much I love those," I say, reaching for her before she jumps back, smiling mischievously as she shakes her head no.

"Stay there," she commands. "Watch…"