A tear slips from the corner of her eye, tracking through the bruise on her cheek.
"Say it back," I demand, needing to hear it more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life.
She lets out a quiet, wet laugh. “But?—”
“Say it.”
"I love you, Gabriel."
The tension in my chest uncoils.
It’s done.
The marriage binds her to me. The baby binds her to me. And now, this.
"Good," I murmur. "Now sleep. You need to heal."
"Will you stay?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
I pull the duvet up to her chin, wrapping my arm around her, anchoring her to me.
She falls asleep quickly, but I stay awake.
I watch the rise and fall of her chest. I watch the way the diamond sparkles every time she moves in her sleep.
Ryder tried to break her and then when that didn’t work, he tried to take her away.
But in the end, all he did was give me everything I needed to keep her forever.
Sittingaround on my butt waiting for my body to heal sucks.
Yeah, I said it. Itsucks.
My bruised ribs create a tight, pulling sensation every time I so much as breathe, and the fading ache behind my eyes serves as a constant reminder that I’m not quite back to normal yet.
Waking up takes forever. Consciousness returns in slow waves, accompanied by the scent of dark roast coffee.
I blink my eyes open, squinting against the gray sky filtering through the massive windows. Gabriel sits in the armchair he pulled right up to the bedside, already dressed for the day. His dark navy suit radiates power and violence in equal measure, the fabric straining slightly across his broad shoulders as he leans forward.
I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of this view.
He studies something on his tablet, his dark hair falling into his eyes, but the second my breathing changes, his gaze snaps to mine.
"You're awake," he says, like he summoned me back to the waking world by sheer force of will.
"Hard to sleep when you’re staring at me," I murmur, stretching my limbs.
My body protests the movement—a sharp twinge in my side, a dull throb in my shoulder—but the agony has receded since yesterday. And it’s miles better than the day before. The purple map of bruises Ryder left on my skin has faded into a sickly greenish-yellow.
Progress.
Gabriel sets the tablet down and leans forward, his hand finding my ankle under the duvet. Warmth seeps through the fabric and I soak it in.
"How's the pain this morning?"
"Better. I think I can manage a shower without help today."
