The End

Chapter 47: Unrecognizable Boundaries

Hidden among palms and flowering vines, the Chateau patio was a glowing oasis. The world ceased to exist. The city suddenly far away. A distant hum beyond the garden walls. The quickly darkening sky only rivaled by the lanterns that hung above them. The faint scent of jasmine lingering in the air. 

In these last few days, the carefree moments had been few and far between. Even though their intimacy no longer had a curfew, the joy of being together had been laced with the fear of what was impending. The reality of what this season meant for them. A season of transition, of growth. They were facing the very things that kept them apart. Decades of what if's coming to a head. Answering the questions of what being together would do to their families, how the media would respond to their affair, what their careers looked like on the other side of divorce. 

A flicker of candlelight illuminated Ellen's face. Patrick studied the way the shadows danced across her features. The way her shirt traced her neckline and her hair kissed her collarbone. She was breathtaking. His worries were immediately obsolete.

"What?" she questioned him softly.

"Maybe we should get room service instead," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Too late," she returned his smile, "You wanted to go out."

He extended his hand across the table to touch hers. She couldn't help but glance around the patio. Not a curious eye to be found. An exhale escaped her lips and then, "Good evening," a young waiter appeared at the table. "Can I start you out with a drink, or a bottle of wine?"

"Please," Patrick slowly retracted his hand as if to not call attention.

"May I suggest a Burgundy? The Volnay is exceptional tonight." He lowered the wine list between them. "Elegant, easy to drink..."

"Why not," feeling like the wine selection was the least of their worries. She smiled kindly.

The waiters eyes met hers for the first time since he'd approached, as if he'd recognized her voice. His composure breaking ever so slightly before he recovered with, "Excellent, I'll have it brought right out."

"Thank you," Patrick nodded his gaze easily refocusing on Ellen. His hand creeping across the table again. She took it happily this time, her fingers tracing the veins in his wrist.

"Is this our first date?" Ellen asked playfully.

"Oh my God," he sighed, "Maybe."  For a fleeting second he felt saddened by the wasted years and then, "How's it going so far?" 

"Meh," she shrugged, "Too soon to tell. I don't really know much about you."

The waiter returned with the bottle of Volnay, already opened, holding it with a folded napkin wrapped around the base. 

Patrick nodded. He was hypnotized by the way the wine flowed smoothly, dark ruby catching the candlelight as it filled the glass. The waiter moved from one glass to the other with quiet precision, then set the bottle down in a silver cooler beside the table.

He watched Ellen lift the glass to her lips. The quiet emotion building in his throat, he let it blossom into the realization that this was about to be their life. A life he'd dreamed about, fought for. 

His eyes hovered over Ellen's reaction to the wine before he swirled it under his nose and sipped it. He let it sit on his tongue for a moment. His eyes never leaving Ellen's "I've been thinking," he began.

"Here we go," she playfully feigned annoyance.

"I think we should buy a house together." He leaned back in his chair, attempting to be casual about the ask.

"Ha," her laugh caught in her throat, "Neither of us are even divorced..."

"You know what I mean," he said with unwavering confidence.

"Patrick," her voice falling somewhere between overwhelmed and amused.

"That's the goal right..." His voice soft and sure, vulnerability peeking through, "a blended family."

Her eyes seemed to sink into him as she sipped her wine quietly, "That's the goal." Ellen's tone instantly softened by Patrick's sincerity. 

"We could just start looking," he began, "set a budget. Pick a neighborhood. I have to buy a house anyway... Unless we move into something we already own... "

"No," Ellen answered quickly, "I don't think so." They needed a fresh start. After all of these years, they deserved to start a life together the right way.

"Good," he nodded, "Where should we live?" Ellen's laughter broke through the patio. He couldn't help but smile, "I'm serious. What's your favorite part of LA."

"Does anyone actually have a favorite part of LA? Malibu maybe," she shrugged.

"Ok," he nodded, "I'll add Malibu to the list."

"Of all the things I thought we'd do tonight..." a grin pulled at Ellen's cheeks.

"Buying a love shack wasn't one of them?" Patrick returned her smile. Again her contagious laugh was music to his ears.  

And then something absolutely extraordinarily ordinary happened, their glass of wine became two glasses and then three. The space between them seemed to shrink. The carefully coordinated affection fading into something with unrecognizable boundaries. Something relaxed and easy. Exhaling into the chemistry they had fought for as long as they knew each other. 

Somewhere between his proposition to buy a house and ordering dessert, he had made his way to her side of the table. His arm draped around her with ease. The waiter now thoroughly in on their secret as they flipped through houses on Patrick's phone. "Oh, what about this one?"

"Oh, that's a nice one," he peaked between them as he place their cheesecake in front of them."

"Eh," Ellen responded with a lackluster shrug.

"You'll find it," the waiter waved off her discouragement and then disappeared. 

"We'll schedule a few showings." Patrick set his phone down to look in her eyes. His hand settling on her thigh. 

"Ok," her voice a little breathy. She subconsciously leaned into him, her face inches from his. She squirmed a little as his fingers brushed her inner thigh. But she didn't pull away. "Think we should go back?"  

"You read my mind," he answered in a soft, hushed tone. His eyes completely lost in hers. He was living a fantasy. She set every part of him on fire. She challenged him, ignited something in his soul that was impossible to ignore. No matter how desperately he had wanted this, he never believed they would actually get here. Not fully.

 Now, as her eyes twinkled over his, he felt overwhelmed with gratitude that this could be every night for the rest of his life.  A glass of wine on a secluded patio with the woman he loved. 

The laughter of a rowdy group seemed to fade into the distance. Earlier in the night they would have separated but they were drunk on wine and high on the hope of the future. He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. His lips aching to touch hers. 

"Dad," Tallulah's voice cut through his dream like a dagger. He was instantly sober.