“I don’t care about the money, Bae.”

“It’s mine. Griffin, you were right about one thing at Martha’s Vineyard when you said we’re too old. I could sneak around with you at eighteen or nineteen. But we’re too old for that now. I’m tired of sneaking around. Besides, when you and I are finally together, I want to be free. I don’t want to worry about Elliott. Or attorneys. Or courts. I want to be yours. Free and clear. I want to be able to look at your face and say ‘I love you. I loved you before anyone else. I will love you after everyone else.’”

Griffin said nothing.

“I just told you I love you, and you have nothing to say?”

“Always did. Always have. Always will,” he said with a smile.

“Really? Can I ask you something? What was that whole Martha’s Vineyard thing about?”

He weighed his words carefully. “I don’t know, Bae. Several years ago, Elaine invited me to the opening. I went, and I thought the place was magical. I couldn’t wait to bring you. I wanted to tell you then how much I loved you, and maybe if things had gone really well … ”

“Oh my God. Did you have a ring?”

Griffin laughed. “Oh no. Nothing as elaborate as that. I was just going to tell you what you meant to me. But you looked so sad, and I thought you were wishing Elliott was with you instead of me. I thought we could be together one last time. But then I didn’t want to put that guilt on you.”

A flurry of emotions swirled around, and nothing was staying put. If only … For some reason, Griffin’s gesture of protecting me hit me a different way this time.

“Well, we could have saved ourselves a shitload of money on attorneys if you had.” I turned on my heel and slammed my bedroom door behind me.

“Now there’s my feminine flower.” I heard his door close soon after. I couldn’t tell if we were fighting or flirting.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Five

I greeted Griffin the next morning as if the earth hadn’t shifted. “What are you doing?” I asked, coming up behind him as he was writing a check.

“Writing you a check. After last night, Elliott wins. I’m making you some French press.”

“Close your checkbook. Elliott is not winning anything,” I said, checking the timer on the coffee. I had so much to do today.

“Okay, Bae. I’ll be good,” Griffin said.

“You don’t have to be too good.” And with that, Griffin scooped me up in a kiss that contained a lifetime of memories.

When he released me, I said, “I need my coffee to go.”

Griffin looked appalled, “This is not a Starbucks drive-through!”