“I love you,” I choke out, the words catching on a sob as my hands clutch the edge of his hospital blanket. My chest heaves, my throat raw. “I love you, Maverick Hayes.” I lean forward, pressing my forehead against the back of his limp hand, tears dripping onto his skin. “And it terrifies me, but it’s the only truth I’ve ever been sure of.”
I shake my head, swallowing hard, my voice breaking as I lift my eyes to his still face. “I don’t care about contracts, or Maggie, or the cameras.” My fingers brush over his knuckles, desperate to feel warmth. “I just want you. I want mornings with you, even the ones where you burn the pancakes.” My lips tremble, a broken laugh escaping. “I want your laugh when you’re being a goon, when you drive me absolutely insane and somehow make me love you more for it.”
My voice cracks again, lower now, almost a whisper. “I want forever, Mav, even if it’s messy. Especially if it’s messy. Because I don’t want perfect, I just want you.”
His fingers tremble beneath mine.
My breath catches. I lean forward, heart pounding, tears falling freely. “Mav?”
His lashes flutter as his lips part on a shallow breath, chest rising unevenly. He blinks once or twice, his eyes glassy and unfocused, reflecting the fluorescent light overhead.
Relief crashes over me so hard my body sags. “Hey, it’s me,” I whisper, squeezing his hand tightly. “It’s Amelia. You’re safe. You’re okay. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
His gaze drifts across the room, passing over the machines, the ceiling, and the edge of the blanket. Finally, his eyes land on mine. For half a second, I swear there’s recognition, a flicker of him.
“Who are you?”
My breath catches, tears spilling hot and relentless as my chest caves in. I stare at him, at the man I love more than I’ve ever admitted, and all he sees is a stranger.
I clutch his hand tighter, my voice breaking into a sob. “It’s me, Mav. It’s Amelia. I’m your—” The word snags in my throat. “I’m your wife.”
maverick
. . .
Her face crumples as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“Who are you?”
It’s like I’ve just torn her heart out of her chest. Her eyes flood with tears, spilling so rapidly she can’t even catch them. Her voice cracks, raw and desperate. “It’s me, Mav. It’s Amelia. I’m your—your wife.”
Fuck.
I’m a fucking idiot, always using humor at the worst times. I know I shouldn’t have said it. Not when she’s already trembling, not when she looks like her whole world is tilting sideways. But my instinct—to poke, to tease, to take the edge off with something reckless—always wins.
I’m a little shit. Can’t help myself.
And yet, seeing her break like that? It kills me. Every tear sliding down her face feels like it’s dragging a blade through my ribs.
My throat burns, and my voice is raspy from the hit, the seizure, and everything else. “I’m sorry, dollface,” I croak, trying to soften it with a crooked grin. “I just had to.”
Her eyes widen in shock, then narrow into a glare. A heartbeat later, her palm slaps against my shoulder—hard. Not playful. Not soft. It’s a sting sharp enough to jolt me against the bed.
“What the actual fuck, Maverick?” Her voice cracks with fury and relief, her whole body trembling. “You scared the shit out of me!”
I can’t help it, I grin wider. “Got you to admit you care, though.”
Her chest heaves, shoulders tense, eyes blazing at me through a flood of tears. She looks like she wants to choke me and kiss me all at once.
But the grin fades before it reaches my eyes. Because the truth sits heavy in my chest, and no amount of teasing can mask it.
I take a slow, shaky breath, the monitor beeping in sync with my irregular heartbeat. “I heard what you said, Amelia.” My voice drops, heavy with everything I’ve been holding back. “Every word. I know you love me.”
Her lips part, hope flickering in her eyes, but I don’t let it stay.
“But that doesn’t erase what you did.” My throat tightens as the words force their way out. “It doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me.”
She flinches, but I can’t stop.
