"You make it sound so simple."
"It is simple. He has something that belongs to you. I'm going to take it back." His thumb brushes my uninjured cheek. "That ring is going back on your finger where it belongs. And then we're going to get married and have the fifty years we promised each other."
"Fifty years."
"At least."
"Even if I'm a mess? Even if I have nightmares and flinch at loud noises and cry in bathrooms?"
"Nothing could ever make me not want to be with you, Ingrid." He leans in, presses his forehead to mine. "I didn't fall in love with a perfect woman, Ingrid. I fell in love with you. All of you. The good parts and the broken parts. The strong parts and the scared parts. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life loving every piece of you."
I close my eyes.
Let his words wash over me.
Let myself believe them.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I love you too."
"Promise you'll be careful. When you go after him."
"I promise."
"I can't lose you. Not now. Not after everything."
"You won't lose me." He pulls back, meets my eyes. "I'm coming back. With your ring. And that bastard is going to regret ever touching what's mine."
The possessiveness in his voice should probably bother me.
It doesn't.
"Okay," I say.
"Okay?"
"Okay. Go find him. Get my ring back. Make him pay." I manage a small smile. "And then come home to me."
"Always."
He kisses me.
Soft.
Careful.
Full of promises.
When he pulls away, there's something in his eyes.
Determination.
Purpose.
The look of a man who knows exactly what he has to do.
"I need to go check on the investigation. But I'll be back soon. Astrid's downstairs?—"
