“But I want to hear you say them,” he rasps, his forearm coming over my head. His glorious lips are a breath away from mine when he whispers, “Say them, sweetheart.”
I only swallow. Somehow it’s so much easier to say it in a different language.
Rowan’s forehead presses to mine, patient as ever. If I’m his sweetheart, then he’s mine too.
Then, quietly, because there’s still that voice in my head some days, I say, “You might love me until you see me.”
“I’ve seen you,” he says. “Iseeyou. And I still love you. Nothing can change that.”
I dip my chin. I suppose he’s right. After all, he did visit me at the hospital a few times—saw me at my lowest. He’s seen me in conditions no one other than my girls have ever seen me in and he’s still here, professing his love again and again. He’sstillhanding me his heart, waiting for me to take it. The only reason I didn’t take it from his hands before was because I thought my hands were no better. I thought I’d let it slip and fall and crash into pieces because my hands were struggling to carry my own heart.
But I think love can be like this too. Two people, nearly one and the same, exchanging their hearts. Love can be trading hearts and taking care of each other’s the way you would your own. Can’t it? And that kind of love requires trust.
Rowan Asher is standing here before me, on New Year’s Day, trusting me enough to hold his heart. And I’m about to trust him enough to give him mine in exchange.
“For a long time, I felt something missing and Irefusedfor that something to be a person—let alone a man,” I croak. “And even though I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and decide whatever is in my head is too much for you, I think what I was missing was someone who knows me the way you do.”
He has undressed me in a way people do when they arepreparing to love all of you. Except what he found…he almost expected. He didn’t flinch at the damage, still doesn’t. And he doesn’t inflict anymore of it.
“Say it, Natalia,” he urges. “In English this time. Let me hear it.”
“I…” I swallow and take a moment to breathe.
“I love you, Rowan.”
Rowan’s smile is nothing short of sunshine. “I know.”
“Say it, or I’ll take it back.”
Rowan grins, boyish and beautiful. “I love you, Natalia Mae Davis-Jeong.”
I chuckle tearfully. “You pronounced it right.”
“Of course I did.” He smirks smugly. “I always do. It’s your name. I love your name.”
I sniffle and his thumb wipes away the tears escaping my eyes. “I don’t love myselfentirelyright now. I’m still learning, you know? With therapy and stuff. But it’s taken me a long time to love myself the way I am trying to. I’ve been workingreallyhard and I won’t let anyone break that, and?—”
“I wouldn’t dare break any of that. And I’m a patient man, Natalia,” he says softly. “I love you. So whatever you need from me, I’m here. I’ll help you. I’ll hold you. I’ll love you through it all, I promise.”
“It’s unfair of me to expect you to be patient with me, Rowan.”
“There isn’t anyone else I want,” Rowan tells me. “I love you so much, Natalia. Honestly, the words sound stupid in comparison to what I feel for you.”
I smile.
“That smile,” he breathes. “You don’t know what your smile does to me.”
“What does it do, Rowan?”
“Smile like that again.”
I do, wider.
His boyish grin returns with a shake of his head like he is stuck in awe. “Like fucking sunshine, sweetheart.”
“Who knew you were so sappy?” I tease and poke his ribs.
“You make me sappy,” he teases back, tickling my sides until I’m gasping for air.
