Rising. Breaking. Drowning.
I come undone with his name on my lips and his soul in my heart.
“Atlas!”
Afterward, he gathers me close, still buried inside me, one hand smoothing down my spine.
It’s in that moment—when the fire has faded into golden afterglow and the man I married is breathing me in like he can’t believe I’m real—that I know it’s time.
He’s ready.
“I have something to tell you,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
He shifts just enough to look into my eyes. “What is it, kardhoúla?”
I press his hand gently to my stomach.
“It’s early. Very early. But I think that is I’m pretty sure we might not be alone anymore.”
His whole body stills.
Then, slowly, his eyes widen.
“What?”
My hand goes to my soft belly. My eyes meet his.
Atlas’ breath hitches in his throat. He sits up, faces me, and covers my hand with his own.
“Are you saying?—”
I nod.
Tears well up. His. Mine.
I don’t know who they belong to anymore.
He kisses me like it’s the first time, like it’s the last, like it’s forever.
Then he presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “You’ve just given me the one thing I never thought I’d have. A future.”
I touch his cheek.
“You gave that to me first.”
Chapter Forty-Atlas
My heart is too full for this silence.
She’s asleep, curled into me like she belongs here—and fuck, she does.
Her curves press against me in the most dangerous ways, every inch of her warm and soft and mine.
The sheet barely covers her lower back, and one thick thigh is draped over mine like a brand.
Her head rests on my chest, the rhythm of her breathing steady, peaceful.
I’ve never known peace like this.
