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It ought to have been, but I didn’t feel anything.
Some folks, I noticed through my mental haze, even bowed as Daniel and I passed on our way to congratulate Tuck and Marian.
Bowed — to me?
I moved stiffly, unsure what to do, say, or feel.
Thank goodness for Daniel steering me to his home in a nearby side street.
To change into something more suitable in the presence of the king, was his excuse.
Thank goodness for the privacy of his four walls, because the moment I sank to a chair, I broke down and sobbed.
And sobbed…and sobbed.
Yes, me, Robynne Hood, the cunning, unflappable outlaw, sobbing like a child. An endless fountain of tears burst forth, and there was no stopping them.
Tears for the silent, gut-wrenching goodbye Daniel and I had exchanged when we’d thought the end had come. Tears of dread as I pictured him sacrificing everything in a last-ditch effort to save me. Tears for the future we would never live and the child — or children — we would never hold.
And that was just the river of tears from that do-or-die moment in the town square. When that deluge passed, a second flood overwhelmed me — one for everything we’d endured in the time leading up to today. Months of fear, frustration, and separation as Daniel and I filled incompatible roles as sheriff and outlaw, hiding our forbidden love. Tears for the interminable years before that, too, when I’d mourned, believing Daniel dead.
Through all that time, I’d held the tears back. Forever, or so I’d thought.
Apparently, though, sorrow didn’t dry up like a puddle. It collected, hidden in some deep, dark place. Filling quietly…waiting until the day something snapped and it could all gush forth.
Daniel sat beside me, holding me. Not trying to stem my tears, just holding me through it all.
At some point, I shuddered and heaved a deep breath. There. I was done.
Then I started crying again, a whole new flavor this time. Tears of joy and relief now — the kind where you replayed a great stroke of luck again and again, unable to process your own good fortune.
We’d survived — not only Daniel and I, but everyone else. We’d rid the world of a small evil, and best of all, we no longer had to hide our love.
“Can you believe it?” I managed to whisper at some point.
Daniel flashed the biggest, happiest, freest smile I’d ever seen on him. “Yes. I believe. I always did. I always will.” He kissed me. “I believe in you and me.”
Just when I’d finally finished crying…
“Damn you, Sheriff,” I cursed him softly. “You’ve set me off again.”
He laughed, then tipped my chin up. “Not just you. Look.”
I blinked through the curtain of my tears, then caught my breath. Two wet streaks glistened down my true love’s face, then collected in the reservoir of the smile beneath.
* * *
That night, we lay in bed, holding each other close. Whispering, touching, marveling at everything that had transpired. In the morning, we made slow, sweet love, so unlike the whirlwind I had always imagined if our day finally came.
Maybe we were still reeling inside. Maybe we were older and wiser, because a single day could age a person as much as ten years. Either way, we drew out every kiss, every slow, burning touch, and every needy groan in that slow dance to an unforgettable high.
Afterward, we basked in our own heat, then chuckled, just because.
“When is that wedding again?” Daniel asked at some point.
I grinned. “You mean Tuck and Marian’s or ours?”
He flashed another huge, sunny smile and kissed me. “Theirs. For now.”
