Being surprised doesn’t mean you’ll love it or hate it.

Being surprised means the one person you love knows you better than you know yourself.

And that is the ultimate sign of perfection.

Taken from the New Notepad of E.E.

...

GALLOWAY HAD SURPRISED me.

More than surprised me.

Dumbfounded me.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Believe it. This way...it’s official. Forever.” Galloway smiled, looking so handsome in a black shirt and jeans. His tan hadn’t faded, ingrained into his skin after three and a half years of hot sunshine, and the black material popped with his bright blue eyes. His glasses glittered sexily and his lips curled in the perfect way, making me want to kiss him.

And kiss him and kiss him. 

I wore a similar outfit of jeans with a black off-the-shoulder blouse. I’d fishtail-plaited my hair so it fell over my shoulder (no longer brittle from sun damage or unwashed) and secretly loved the white strands against the dark fabric.

It wasn’t exactly a wedding dress...but I didn’t want one. Or need one. As far as I was concerned, we were already married.

This was just a formality.

However, I adored my wedding ring.

I couldn’t stop twirling it.

There was no expensive diamond, no gaudy gemstones. Just a simple gold band with the words: You crashed with me. I fell for you. I love you.

It was beyond perfect and would never ever leave my finger.

Not even to hand it to the celebrant so she could instruct Galloway to place it on my hand with our vows.

No way. It was there to stay.

Madeleine stood behind me with Coco in her arms as Galloway turned and took my hands.

We stood in a small room resembling a beige box with an Australian flag hanging limply in the corner.

The celebrant moved to stand in front of G and me. “Are you ready?”

We nodded.

Looking at Galloway, she said, “As this is just a simple formality, I’ll ask the simplest but most important of questions.” She grinned. “Do you take Estelle Marie Evermore to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Galloway licked his lower lip. “I do.”

Her gaze switched to me. “And do you take Galloway Jacob Oak as your lawfully wedded husband?”

My nerves drained away. “I do.”

The celebrant clapped. “In that case, I now pronounce you husband and wife. For the second time.”

We kissed.

We celebrated.

We ignored the pain of missing Pippa and Conner.

They’d been there the first time we’d got married.

Now, they were gone.

We didn’t have the children, but we did have that coveted piece of paper.

And the very next day, my last name changed from Evermore to Oak.

It was legal.

Chapter Eighty-One

...............................................

G A L L O W A Y

......

A MONTH AFTER we got married, we still hadn’t settled.

We’d done our best.

We’d given it a shot.

We’d been open-minded and appreciative and hopeful.

But now, I was over it.

I was over not being happy.

I was over being father to a cranky two-year-old who begged to return to a place that (to most people) only existed in fairy-tales.

Why should we bow to what was normal? Why should we believe that to excel in life we had to have the fanciest house, the most expensive of clothes, and the most stressful job?

Why couldn’t we be honest? Why couldn’t we admit that our wants and desires weren’t in flashy cities and gourmet restaurants? They were in the wild open spaces of archipelagos and turtle nurseries?

That night, Estelle and I walked along the beach at sunset. Coco played behind us with her sandcastles, chatting to her stuffed turtle, and finding happiness that she couldn’t find anywhere else.

The gentle swish of the tide over our toes called to me more than concrete or glass. Something intrinsic had changed forever, and I couldn’t get rid of it.

I didn’t want to get rid of it.

I glanced at Estelle, my heart quickening at how beautiful she was in her loose white dress and unbound hair. Her period had come last week, which meant she wasn’t pregnant but her body was able to.

The thought both excited and terrified.

If we gave up on this life and returned to where I wanted, we couldn’t have another child...unless...

The ideas that’d kept me company for months kept evolving, twisting, growing. I hadn’t shared any of them with Estelle, but I couldn’t hold them back any longer.

Once the paperwork was finalised and our world reinstated, Estelle stole Madi from her job as a personal assistant to a CEO and hired her to run the empire she didn’t even know she had. The lawyers released control of the trust back to Estelle, but Stel made Madi joint beneficiary for her honesty and loyalty.

The record company had been in touch and requested more songs, more lyrics, more of everything. And if she wanted it, Estelle could have the career she’d always dreamed of.

And I knew she dreamed of it because I’d caught her playing the baby grand in the foyer of a hotel we’d had dinner at while she waited for me to pay.

She looked just as beautiful as she did on the YouTube video. However, something was fundamentally different. Whereas music had been her outlet and passion, now it was second place to what she truly wanted.

What I truly wanted.

What Coco truly wanted.

What we all bloody wanted.