all our lives will change forever. I’ll be a husband, as well as a killer. I’ve yet to take a life in this war, but if the lives I take in the near future bring happiness and peace, then it’s something I will live with for the rest of my life.
“How much farther?” Mila asks, her steps slowing.
After taking the tunnel out from under the church, we’re now heading around the outskirts of the city. I could have driven us, but if my car was clocked by just one person, whispers would travel, and we’d be caught together.
“It’s just at the bottom of this road.”
In fact, in less than twenty feet, the old rusty gate will open to the cottage I found for us. No one will think to look here.
Dark clouds are moving across the sky, and as I lead her up the garden path, the first drop of rain falls. I have no idea who owns this cottage, but from the state of it, no one has used it in a long time, apart from me. I’ve been bringing supplies over the last few days, from bottled water, to clean sheets and food, we have everything we’ll need to hide out.
“This is where we’re going to stay after we marry. I’ve been trying to clean it up a bit,” I tell her as she spins slowly in the centre of the room, taking in the scarce furniture and threadbare rugs covering the wooden floorboards.
Off to the side of the living area, a set of old creaky stairs lead to the one bedroom and small bathroom.
The place is nothing like we’re used to, but I’d sleep under the stars if it meant lying beside her. The stairs protest much more under my weight than they do under Mila’s.
She stops in the doorway to the bedroom, and I quietly watch her from the side. Staring at the bed, made with the clean sheets, her cheeks flame as she rolls her bottom lip between her teeth.
Her fingers lightly brush against mine as a crack of thunder rolls across the sky, the dimness in the room brightened by the flash of lightening. I can barely hear my breath over the rain beating against the old sash window.
“In three days, you’ll be my husband, and instead of having a huge party and spending our first night together, we’re going to be planning two murders.”
Her voice, usually determined and inquisitive, is unsure. When she looks up at me, there’s a newfound shyness to her.
“Are you changing your mind?”
“No. I wish to rearrange our plan. A slight tweak, that’s all.”
I wait for her to share this “tweak” she wishes to make, but no words part from her lips. She turns to face me, running her fingertips down the front of my shirt and over my chest. “I don’t want our first time to be clouded by violence and the deaths of our fathers. It should be something between just the two of us. Moments we will look back on and remember how special they were.”
Her words penetrate, and I find myself stuck on how to move forward. It’s something I’ve had to push out of my mind for months.
As the rain continues to pound against the window, the thunder drowning out the rest of the world, I press my lips to hers. My Mila, needing me as much as I need her.
“It’s a sin,” I remind her painfully.
“How can it be a sin, wanting to share ourselves with each other? I love you. I’m going to share the rest of my life with you, the man who owns my heart and soul, just as I own yours. Why can’t we own each other completely?”
Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I squeeze lightly and pull her flush against me.
“Are you sure you want this? We only have three days to wait.”
“No matter what happens, the one thing I know with complete certainty is that you are my life. I want this—I want you.”
Covering my hand with hers, she drags it down, and together, we step into the bedroom.
Unbuttoning my shirt, she pushes it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Leaning in, she presses her lips to my skin over my heart, that’s now beating like a drum.
Her eyes wander up to find mine. I’ve never seen her so alive.
Tugging her sweater up and over her head, the blue material joins my shirt on the floor, she shimmies out of her