I opened the box, revealing the ring I’d chosen after comparing stones and settings, a deep blue sapphire surrounded by smaller diamonds, unusual like her, brilliant like her. Not the traditional engagement ring, but Aven had never been a conventional woman.
Her fingers trembled as I slid it onto her hand, a perfect fit because I’d measured the ring she always wore on her right hand while she slept beside me the night before.
“You arrogant, presumptuous, wonderful man.” Aven smiled, looking from the ring to my face in disbelief.
Then her hands were on my face, her fingers sliding into my beard, pulling me down until our lips met with the force of fifteen years of separation collapsing into nothing. I wrapped my arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as the kiss deepened, both of us oblivious to the rain pouring down, to the occasional car driving past, to everything but the taste and feel of each other.
Aven threw her arms around my neck.When we broke apart, I kept her close, our foreheads touching, rain streaming downour faces. “I’m not running anymore. Not from you, not from us, not from whatever this crazy future looks like,” she confirmed, locking her eyes with mine.
“Good. Because I’d follow you anyway,” I replied, unable to stop smiling despite being soaked to the skin in a parking lot during a thunderstorm.
She laughed as I captured her mouth again, sealing our improbable engagement with a kiss, which was like coming home and setting out on the most incredible adventure of my life all at once.
Epilogue
AVEN
I woke up in Paris to the edge of a paper origami crane tickling my cheek. Langston had placed it on my pillow sometime this morning. I unfolded the delicate paper wings to reveal his handwriting.To the mother of my child and the keeper of my heart, knock ‘em dead today. I’ve got everything else covered.
I knew Langston wanted to turn my bad experience with paper cranes into something good. And that he did, because I wasn’t terrified when I saw them anymore. The simple sentiment, so unexpectedly tender from a man who’d once built walls like it was his second profession, made my throat tighten.
The sweet gesture lasted three seconds before morning sickness hit me like a freight train, sending me scrambling toward the bathroom.
I barely made it, dropping to my knees on the cool tile as my body reminded me “morning” sickness could be cruel. Five months in, and this baby girl still had me worshipping the porcelain throne at random intervals throughout the day. I rested my forehead against the bathtub, waiting for the wave to pass.
“You really testing your mama today, huh?” I whispered, hand cradling the firm curve of my belly beneath my sleep shirt. “Got a big day, little bit. Need you to cooperate.”
When I felt steady enough to stand, I rinsed my mouth and splashed cold water on my face, taking in my reflection. Despite the ten hours of sleep Langston insisted I got, dark circles sat beneath my eyes.
My skin glowed, though. Raina swore pregnancy glow was the universe’s apology for everything else your body went through. I now embraced my wild curls that would’ve stressed me out as a part of the journey.
I laid out my outfit for the European leg of my book reading — a cream blouse, navy blazer with gold buttons, and matching navy pants with a stretchy waistband that was forgiving of my growing bump. The Parisian literary culture demanded a certain polish.
I stood before the full-length mirror, applying makeup to last through three hours of reading, Q&A, and signing. The woman staring back at me still sometimes felt like a stranger, a successful author, a wife, and a soon-to-be mother. It was so different from the scared girl who’d fled a stalker and returned home with her tail between her legs, only to find everything she’d been searching for had been waiting all along.
The blazer buttons strained over my belly as I worked them closed. I’d probably need to switch to dresses after Paris, something flowing that wouldn’t fight against my changing body. As I reached the final button, struggling to make it meet its counterpart, the hotel room door opened.
“Security’s all set. The bookstore has a private entrance ready, and Martinez is stationed in the crowd. Just in case,” Langston announced, his baritone sending a calm through me before I turned to look at him.
Just in case.Three words summed up Langston’s entire approach to life — prepared for any possibility, every contingency covered. The security mogul in him never fully relaxed.
He crossed the room in three long strides, stepping behind me. His reflection appeared over my shoulder, those dark eyes sweeping over me with a hunger that made my stomach flip even after two years of marriage.
“You look beautiful,” he said simply, all flattery.
His hands slid around me, palms spreading protective and possessive over the swell of our daughter. The gold of his wedding band caught the light as his fingers widened across my belly. I leaned back against the solid warmth of his chest, both of us staring at our reflection, him in his tailored charcoal suit, emphasized shoulders built from years of physical security work before he’d gone corporate, me in my professional best with a baby bump that couldn’t be hidden anymore.
“Don’t forget about tomorrow,” he murmured, lips brushing my temple. “Ultrasound appointment at nine. We get to see if she has my dimples.”
I smiled, covering his hands with mine. “As long as she doesn’t have your stubborn streak, we’ll be fine.”
“Too late. She’s already half you, which means we’re in for a world of trouble.” He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest against my back.
His use of my old nickname sent warmth spreading through me. Some things had changed drastically since the rain-soaked proposal in the Savoy parking lot, but the core of us, the push and pull, the banter, the deep current of understanding, remained the same.
“Mike texted that they made it to their hotel last night. Raina was threatening to drag the kids to the Louvre Museumat opening, but Mike thinks they’ll sleep in after the flight,” Langston said, reluctantly releasing me to check his watch.
“She always acts like vacation is a military operation. Remember our honeymoon? She sent me a full itinerary with color coding.” I laughed, turning to face him.
