“Choosing you,” He’s suddenly standing, closing the space between us. My spine hits the door and then his arms are caging me in. “Choosing you, kitten. Right now.”
“What do you mean?” I breathe.
“This is our wedding, Olivia.”
“It’s not a wedding,” I point out, unsure what I am actually saying. “It’s a vow renewal.”
He cocks his head, eyes flicking around my face as if waiting…
“Oh!” I finally catch up.
He chuckles, “For us, Olivia. It’s for us.”
“But you’re not Mr. Levine.” I point out again uselessly. My brain is not working.
“Levine is Sebastian’s last name. I just borrowed it. If you knew it was me, you wouldn’t have arranged for this.”
“Wait,” I gasp, “You had me plan my own vow renewal!?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to give you the day you wanted. We can’t have the wedding again, but this, I can give you this. I can give you the day you would have wanted.”
“Malakai, I–”
“There’s more, sweetheart,” He says quietly, sorrow lining his face, “I am choosing you now,” He steps away, and I swear that’s tears in his eyes, “I am choosing you even if you are not choosing me.”
He walks back to the desk, “I’ve signed them already.”
I stare at the brown envelope in his hand.
“I am choosing you to be happy, Olivia.” He swallows and I wasn’t mistaken, thosearetears. That’s a tear rolling down his cheek.
If I thought I was heartbroken before then I was wrong because this – this is excruciating. I can’t fucking breathe past it.
“And if being happy means being without me, for now, then sign the divorce papers and don’t meet me at the end of the aisle.”
“Malakai…”
“But I need you to know, even if you sign these papers, I won’t stop. I will earn your love again, Olivia, whether we are married or not. You are my wife. You will always bemy wife.”
He places the thick envelope on the desk, turning to me once again, letting me see every raw and gritty emotion on his face, letting me see those tears on his cheeks.
“I never told you.” He whispers. “I never told you that I love you.”
My lip’s part on a breath as my heart hammers in my chest.
“But I do,” He promises, “With every fiber of my being. I love you, Olivia. I think I loved you from the moment you stood in my office that first day you moved in.”
He’s back in front of me, finger curled under my chin, “And IknewI loved you,” He breathes, “the moment you fucked up my closet and put ketchup in my shoes.”
A watery laugh bursts from me but hesitation works in too.
“I want it all, Olivia.” He tells me, “But now, it’s up to you.”
Icy cold sweeps through me when he takes a step away, “Your dress is behind you and my pen is on the desk.”
