She presses her forehead to mine. “Then we’ll build that future. One step at a time.”
“Come here,” I whisper, tugging her gently beside me on the bed. She curls into me without hesitation, her body molding to mine like we were always meant to fit this way.
“Alice said you never left the hospital. That you slept in that armchair every night.” I run my fingers through her hair, guilt clawing at my chest.
She nods, tears glimmering. “I couldn’t leave you. Not even for a night.”
I kiss her. A slow, aching kiss full of all the words I haven’t said, all the apologies, all the love. “I love you, baby. I love you more than life.”
We stay like that, tangled together, until her phone lights up on the side table.
“It’s Sebastian,” she murmurs. “Everyone’s asking about you—when we’re coming back. They think you’re reckless, stupid, and brave as hell.” Her arms tighten around me.
I stroke her back gently. “It was you who saved us.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “You owe me a hair tie, you know.”
I tilt her chin to face me. “No, baby. I owe you my life.”
Her smile—God, that smile—is all I want to see for the rest of my days.
“Oh, and a honeymoon,” she adds with a teasing glint.
“Anything you want, love. Name it. I’ll give you the world.”
She leans back, eyeing me playfully. “When will you resume service, Captain Weister?”
I shake my head, pulling her close. “Never, ma’am. I want to be with my family.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod.
“I missed your kisses,” she whispers, her lips brushing mine. “I missed you.”
Then she looks at me with quiet intensity. “Why, Nate? Why did you push me away?”
“Jealousy,” I admit, shame rising in my throat. “I saw pictures. You and Landlon. It ate me alive.”
She pulls back, shocked. “Pictures?”
“I’m going to have a talk with Kennet,” I mutter, cursing under my breath.
“Why? I want to see them.”
“Babe…”
“No. Morris argued with him, then reassigned him. I asked about it, but he said it was just work. I want to know the truth.”
“I’m sorry for this mess. I really am.”
Tears pool in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. None of it would’ve changed anything. Christian told me the surgery might disable you, but not doing it meant risking your life. I didn’t care about the risks. I just wanted you. Alive.”
I take her hand, noticing our wedding rings still shining on her finger. The lump in my throat rises again. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying. For fighting. For loving me even when I gave you every reason not to.”
