“I need to hear you to say the words.”
“I will,” I promise, and I mean it. “I love you, Zayn. From that very first time you walked into my gazebo, and every minute since.” Emotion clogs my throat, making it hard to speak. I can still hardly believe that after all this time, it’s really Zayn standing before me. That I get a second chance in this life time to love him, to have him. I reach up and graze my hand over his chiselled jaw, relishing in the feel of his stubble against my palm. The tousled, inky strands of his hair meet my fingertips as he tips his head to lean into my touch. His dark eyes roam my face hungrily, just as mine do his. He’s so heart-achingly beautiful, this man of mine.
“It was my gazebo.”
I snort and shove him playfully, but then pull him back in close to me.
“I want you to say it again,” I say, I looking up into his eyes. The one’s that are always there staring back at me like I’m the only thing that exists in his world.
“It was my gazebo.”
“Not that. The other thing.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He kisses me then, long and slow, his hands roaming slowly across my hips and up my back until I feel a tug on my zip. “May I?”
“Please. I need to wash this day off me.”
He unzips my dress and lets it fall to the floor, his gaze darkening when he sees that all I have on is a thong.
“Fuck’s sake.” He groans, pulling his gaze away from my body. “Have a shower and I’ll take you home.”
I don’t correct him and tell him I am home, because he’s here with me.
Zayn you are my home. I will follow you anywhere.
“You have that the wrong way around,” he says, his voice soft, and I realise I did, in fact, say that out loud. “I’ve been chasing you for over ten years, Gianna. There is nowhere I wouldn’t go and nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Trust me, I learned that the hard way.”
Tears fall freely from my cheeks as his words sink into my skin and start to knit together every wound I suffered since the moment he was ripped away from me. Even though I’ve lived through a traumatic experience tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am in this very moment with Zayn by my side, knowing that aftereverything we’ve been through, we’re finally free to spend the rest of our lives together with nothing else in our way.
40
Iwake later that morning in the softest bed, with arms firmer than steel wrapped around me. Zayn clung to me all night like he was afraid I would slip away while he slept. Not that I mind. Dreams of Daniel chasing me through my apartment forced me awake multiple times through the night, and Zayn’s presence was like a beacon of light in the dark. A blanket of calm in a storm.
Nothing can hurt me while he’s with me.
I turn in his arms to find him already awake, looking at me through sleep-hazed eyes.
“This is how I want to wake up every day for the rest of my life,” he mutters, drawing me in closer. His words remind me of another time, in another place. When we were just two kids in love who had no idea what the future had in store for them, or what they would go through to find each other again.
He envelopes me against his chest where I snuggle in to his warmth.
“Me, too.”
We lay for a few moments in silence, just soaking up themoment together. There’s a strange weightlessness in my chest as I mull over the events of last night. I thought I’d feel traumatised, or more violated than I do. But, really? I feel at peace knowing that I don’t have to worry about Daniel lurking behind every corner, waiting for his moment to strike. I finally feelfree.
“How did you know to come to my apartment?” I murmur against Zayn’s bare chest, reliving that moment when I opened the door to find him standing there like my own guardian angel.
“I didn’t know Daniel was there,” he says slowly. There’s a hard edge to his voice, and I close my eyes when he starts running his fingers through the lengths of my hair. “I arrived home and Bruce told me you came by to see me. I turned around and went straight to you.”
Thank God for Bruce. I make a mental note to thank him properly later. He was long gone by the time Zayn and I arrived back at his apartment this morning.
“Where had you been?” I ask, distracting myself by tracing my fingers over Zayn’s chiselled pectoral, ignoring the pit forming in my stomach.Not with a woman, please.
“A friend’s wedding.”
