I’m the love of his life. His Fae.
“Yeah,” I whisper, looking him over myself, looking at the tired but happy lines around his eyes and his gorgeous mouth.
“Halo was okay too?”
“Yes. It was a fun day. We went to the park. We prepped for the party. Halo loves her outfit for tomorrow.”
It’s a Saturday and usually Reed’s home. But they’re working on this vintage car that I don’t even know the name of and they’re on sort of a deadline to get it done for this rich guy from New York so he had to go in.
“How was your day?” I ask then.
He shrugs. “Good. Tiring. But we got the car ready.”
My eyes go wide in happiness. “You did?” I grin. “That’s way before the deadline. Yay!”
That’s awesome.
Not that I had any doubts. My Roman knows his cars. But more than that it’s the fact that he told me. It’s the fact that he tells me things now.
Like he promised me he would. The day he told me he loved me. That he’d loved me for years.
At first, it was hard though. For him to share things.
After burying things inside of him for years, it was new and difficult for him to open up. But slowly, though my prodding and poking and his willingness to share, even though he didn’t know how to, we made progress.
He told me things about his childhood, about how his dad was the only one to call him Roman and how he hated that nameuntil I started calling him that. And I’m not going to lie, there were times when I was so angry on his behalf.
But then I channeled that anger. Into love.
Into showing him that he has a safe place in me. A safe place in his fairy.
He hums again, bringing me back to the moment.
Then, “So I’m a sucker, huh. For bringing Halo a puppy.”
I nod. “Yup.”
“Or maybe you’re just jealous.”
I frown. “Why would I be jealous?”
He flexes his grip on my hair. “Because I brought a present. For a girl.”
“And?”
Smirking, he replies, “And that girl is not you.”
I raise my eyebrows at him and his smirk only becomes more devilish.
Just to be a brat, I bite my lip. “Well, you got me. Iamjealous. Because I thought I was your main girl.”
“My main girl.”
“Yes. See this?” I let go of his bicep and show him my left hand, the one sporting a wedding ring. “This proves that I’m your main girl. For the rest of your life. So what do you have to say for yourself,husband?”
He eyes my hand for a second, a flash of possessiveness flickering through his features.
The same one he had on the day he put that ring on my finger almost a year ago.
