He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

About an hour later, dinner was behind them.

Richard and Roxanne strolled hand in hand along the winding paths of the property. The cool evening breeze rustled the leaves overhead.

"I loved that tree as a boy," Richard said, pointing toward a massive oak stretching into the twilight. "I used to hide up there whenever I was caught being mischievous."

Roxanne laughed. "Well, it sounds like we have a naughty one on our hands, then."

Richard chuckled. "Come on, I want to take you to my favorite spot. I had so many conversations with my grandfather right there by the water." He guided her toward the edge of a pond, the surface mirroring the stars overhead. "It’s going to get really cold, though. Take this."

He shrugged off his heavy jacket, slipping it over her shoulders. The fabric still carried his clean, warm scent, instantly wrapping her in a cocoon of safety.

"I’m glad you want to share this with me," Roxanne murmured, smiling up at him.

Within moments, the winding stone path gave way to a quiet wooden dock stretching over a still pond.

Moonlight spilled across the water in shimmering ribbons, broken only by the occasional ripple of fish beneath the surface. Tall reeds swayed gently along the shoreline, while the distant chorus of crickets filled the cool evening air. The scent of damp earth and pine lingered around them, washing away the last traces of the city.

Roxanne slowed instinctively, taking everything in. The silence wasn’t empty. It felt peaceful. Almost sacred. "It’s beautiful," she whispered.

Richard smiled quietly beside her. "This was always my favorite place." He looked out across the water, his expression softening into something almost boyish. "Whenever life became too loud, my grandfather would bring me here."

Roxanne gasped softly, her eyes widening as she looked at him. "Are we here for what I think we’re here for?"

Richard rolled up his shirtsleeves, kneeling to pop open a sleek wooden box resting between two canvas chairs. "My grandfather used to say the biggest fish only come out in the dark."

"Oh, Richard, I have never used a fishing rod in my life," Roxanne admitted, watching the boyish, eager tilt of his head as he pulled out two hooks and set them down. "I am a city girl through and through."

Richard looked up at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Even better. This gets to be one of your firsts with me." He extended a hook toward her.

Roxanne took it, her fingers brushing against his warm palm. Gosh, what a man, she thought, her pulse fluttering. "All right. So, how does this even work?"

Stepping in close behind her, Richard wrapped his warm hands over hers, guiding her grip. "Yes, just like that. Relax your wrists. Look at that. You’re already doing great. Now, draw it back and swing like this."

He cast his own line into the dark water with a smooth motion.

Roxanne copied the movement, throwing her line back, only for it to snag firmly in the low branches of a nearby willow tree.

They both burst into helpless laughter, the tension breaking into the quiet night air. For a few breathless moments, they stood together in the dark, trying to catch their breath while Richard gently untangled the line from the leaves.

Resetting her grip, he stood close behind her, his chest brushing her back as he guided her swing once more. She tried again, and this time, the line sailed through the air with a soft whoosh before landing with a gentle ripple in the center of the pond.

Moments later, they settled side by side into the two canvas chairs, listening to the crickets hum as they waited for a bite.

Roxanne turned her head, watching the play of moonlight across his sharp profile. "What kind of man was he? Your grandfather?"

Richard smiled, a distant look entering his dark eyes. "He was amazing. He always used to say, ’You’ll know you’ve found the right woman when silence with her feels better than conversation with everyone else.’"

Roxanne looked at him, her chest tightening with an unexpected ache of tenderness. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then chuckled softly together.

"But tell me honestly, why did you never marry?" Roxanne asked, tilting her head. "Have you seriously never been in love before?"

Richard turned to face her fully, lifting a hand to gently tuck a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her cheek. "Because there aren’t many Roxannes in this world," he said, his voice dropping an octave, rich and low. "I met successful women. Beautiful women. Brilliant women. But I never met anyone I actually wanted to bring home. Until you."

Roxanne’s heart skipped a beat as she read the meaning hidden in his words. Nobody had ever looked at her the way Richard just had, and it terrified her because a part of her wanted to believe him.

I’m not sure I’m ready for this kind of commitment again, she thought, her pulse spiking frantically.

Noticing the shift in her breathing, Richard gently stroked his thumb over the back of her hand."What are you scared of?" he asked softly.

Roxanne stared up at the starlit sky, a sudden, hot burn stinging the back of her eyes. "Wasting more years loving the wrong person," she whispered.

Richard leaned forward, closing the distance between their chairs. "That cycle is over."

Roxanne swallowed the thick knot of emotion wedged in her throat and managed a small nod. "What are you afraid of?" she asked.

Richard didn’t answer immediately. He rested his fishing rod across his lap and looked out over the moonlit water. A gentle breeze disturbed the pond, sending tiny ripples across its glass-like surface.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, he smiled to himself. "Losing something irreplaceable."

Roxanne’s brows creased. "Like what?"

Richard looked at her. "You."

Roxanne bolted slightly upright, her heart hammering against her ribs. Richard frowned, noticing the sudden tension in her frame. Before he could ask what was wrong, the tip of her fishing rod violently jerked downward toward the water.

"I think you caught something big," Richard said, amusement breaking through his expression.

Roxanne gasped, her eyes going wide. "I—I think I did!"

"All right, just pull the line back carefully, steady as you go," Richard instructed, stepping close to steady her hands.

Roxanne nodded, gritting her teeth as she reeled backward. With a sudden splash, a sizable fish broke the surface, landing right on the wooden dock. She stared at it, then let out a triumphant gasp. "It’s huge!" she cheered, doing a little victory dance on the spot.

Richard chuckled, shaking his head at her uncontainable joy. "Incredible job, city girl."

Together they released the fish back into the pond.

Without thinking, Roxanne threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. Richard caught her instinctively, his strong arms wrapping tight around her waist to anchor her.

Roxanne tried to pull away, but Richard didn’t let her go. They looked at each other, the air between them suddenly heavy with desire. Slowly, they leaned in.

Their lips met in a soft kiss at first. Then Richard groaned low in his throat, deepening the kiss as his arms tightened, molding her body against his until there was no space left between them.

When they finally broke apart for air, Richard rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged. "I think we can call mission accomplished here. It’s getting freezing. Let’s go inside."

Roxanne looked up into his dark, hooded eyes, tracing the line of his jaw before pressing one last, lingering kiss to his lips. "Thank you for this. For all of it."

"Thank you for coming here with me," Richard murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "You make everything better. Plus, I think you’ve officially outperformed your teacher." He laughed softly.

Roxanne lifted the fish proudly. "Beginner’s luck."

"No." Richard smiled. "Natural talent."

She rolled her eyes. "Flatterer."

Then they stood quietly, watching it disappear beneath the dark water before beginning the slow walk back toward the house.

The evening had grown colder.

Richard adjusted his jacket around her shoulders, and she instinctively slipped her hand into his, neither of them in a hurry.

Small lanterns lining the stone pathway flickered to life one after another, casting pools of golden light across the gardens. Somewhere in the distance, a fountain trickled softly.

For several minutes, they simply walked. Surprisingly, neither of them felt the need to speak.

Roxanne smiled to herself. She finally understood what his grandfather had meant. Silence with Richard didn’t feel awkward.

It felt like home.

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