“Good.”
He blinks. “Good?”
“You should have been dying. I was.” My voice cracks. “You broke my heart, Declan. You told me you loved me and then you threw me away.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix four weeks of crying myself to sleep. Sorry doesn’t fix feeling like I wasn’t enough to fight for.”
“You were always enough.” He steps closer. I don’t back away. “You were more than enough. I was the one who wasn’t. I didn’t know how to love someone without being terrified of losing them.”
“So you decided to lose me on your own terms?”
“Yes.” His voice breaks. “And it was the worst mistake of my life.”
I stare at him. This man who killed for me. Who looks as wrecked as I feel.
“You can’t just show up and expect?—”
“I’m not expecting anything.”
He drops to his knees.
Right there in my doorway.
“I’m asking. I’m begging, Molly. Give me another chance. Let me prove I can be the man you deserve.”
“Declan—”
“I love you. I’ve loved you since we hooked up in that fucking underground club in Brooklyn. I was just too stupid to admit it.”
He pulls a box from his jacket pocket and flips open the top. My breath hitches at the sight of the diamond ring glittering against the black velvet.
“Marry me. For real. No contracts. No arrangements. Just you and me.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.”
“I should slam this door in your face.”
“Probably.”
I reach down, grab his shirt, and haul him up so we’re face to face.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, you idiot. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I love you.” I pull him close and tangle my fingers in the back of his hair. “And yes, I’m going to make you suffer for this.”
Then I kiss him like I’ve been starving, and he’s my next meal.
He kisses me back, and it’s desperate, needy, and full of love.
“I’m sorry,” he says against my mouth. “I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
“You’d better.” I yank him inside. “Now shut up and take me to bed.”
