She resists at first, but eventually her chin lifts, and her raw, guarded, too-familiar-with-abandonment eyes lock on mine.
I inform her, "I didn't marry you because the Underworld forced me to. I chose to marry you. And I stay because the thought of losing you makes the ground open up from under me. I wanted you when bullets were flying, and I want you even more now that the world isn't trying to kill us."
She blinks hard, but a tear falls. She chokes out, "You don't have to say that."
I take her face in my hands. In a firm tone, I demand, "Listen to me closely, Minx. I'm not saying it because I have to. I choose you. Not as a shield. Not as a duty. Not as a consequence of war. I choose you because you're mine and I love you."
Her breath catches, tears gathering again. She blinks rapidly, trying to force them away.
I continue, "And since we're clearing the air, let's tackle something else."
Her brows pull tight. She sniffles, "What?"
"It's time we make our own babies," I declare, my pulse ticking up.
Her entire body goes still.
I don't look away and add, "I want a life with you. A real one. One that isn't built on trauma, strategy, or survival. One that's just ours...well, and our babies." I wiggle my eyebrows, grinning.
A tearful laugh escapes her. She shakes her head slightly, questioning, "You think we're ready for babies?"
I grin wider. "Nope. I'm sure we'll fuck up a lot of shit. But is any parent ever ready?"
She bites her lip and shrugs her shoulders. "I-I don't know."
"I'm sure they aren't. But we're smart. We'll figure it out," I assure her, then pull her against me, my arms locking around her. I state, "You aren't some burden I've been dragging across the finish line."
She softly cries against my chest.
I pull back and wipe the tears from her cheek. "Okay. You can tell me."
"Tell you what?" she asks, with confusion all over her expression.
My heart thuds against my chest. I answer, "That you love me."
Time seems to stand still.
My gut flips.
Maybe she doesn't, and I've been wrong?
She finally declares, "I love you."
"Jesus Christ, you scared me for a minute," I tease, but it's the truth.
She laughs.
I press a kiss to the crown of her head, then tilt her chin up again. "We survived hell. We ended an empire. Now we get to build something else. Something that has our name on it and is our choice."
Tears spill freely down her cheeks now. "You really want that?"
"With you? Yes. With anyone else? Never."
Her breath stutters, and she smiles.
I kiss her slowly, sealing a new understanding between us. Then I retreat, adding, "You're not getting rid of me, Minx. Not now. Not ever. And definitely not before we make a whole brood of little terrors that drive everyone else insane."
She laughs harder, and for the first time in weeks, the world around us stops feeling lost. It starts feeling like a beginning.
