I still can't quite believe it’s not just a bad nightmare. Over the past twenty-four hours—everything seems to have turned upside down, or perhaps right side up, finally.
What I do appreciate though, is the end of the lies. That, for the first time, I’m sleeping with Juliet. Warmth spreads throughout my body as I think of the life we will make together. My hand strokes her hair slowly and it is immensely soothing.
I realize suddenly that the shock has made me unable to see the truth. I am the luckiest man on earth. Sure, I feel pity that Carolyn is dead, she was after all, my wife, but it was her own machinations that got her killed. And now her manipulation, her coldness, it's all gone now, replaced by this amazing woman.
And now, I get to spend the rest of my life with the love of my life, and the very thought of this is beyond sweet. My lips brush her forehead again, lingering, tasting her skin like a drug.
I'm so in love with her that I can’t get enough of her. I kiss her again and again, softly so that I don’t wake her up. I swear to myself in the dark that I'll never let her go—she’s my family now just as much as we are hers, and I am going to do everything to keep it this way.
Forever.
Chapter Sixty
JULIET
Iwake up slowly, confusion clouding my mind like fog rolling in, and my body full of aches.
The room is bright, with morning light filtering through the curtains and turning everything soft and golden. A deep exhaustion pulls at me, making it hard for me to piece together where I am or what happened.
Then it all rushes back in fragments—the farmhouse, the gun, the knife, Carolyn’s dead body falling on me, Blake's arms. Blake said he loves me. My heart skips as I sit up. And he came to me last night. I turn to look at the unoccupied pillow beside me. The bed feels too big and too empty without him in it, which leaves me wondering where my life goes from here. Can I really be Carolyn? Yesterday, the shock made it all seem so easy. Simply slip into her shoes. But can Juliet really become Carolyn?
Everything seems to be within my grasp, yet I cannot push away the fear that any moment now it will all be taken away. I rub my eyes as the stress makes my stomach turn; that sick feeling from last night lingers like a hangover.
I put my hand on my stomach just as the door opens and Blake comes in with Freya in his arms, her small face beaming as he carefully balances a tray in his free hand. The smell of fresh coffee and baked goods wafts in, warm and inviting. The tray is filled with pancakes, croissants, and a bowl of mixed berries.
"Look what we brought for you, Carolyn!" Freya shouts, her voice bright and excited.
Blake sets the tray on the bed slowly, his eyes on mine, soft and loving, before he pauses to kiss my forehead. His lips feel warm, a touch that stirs that sensual pull. His hand brushes my cheek as his thumb traces gently, making me lean into it despite the confusion.
"Freya whipped this up for you—with a little help from yours truly," he says, his voice low and teasing, a small laugh escaping as he sets her down beside me. Her pigtails bounce as she climbs up carefully so as not to overturn the tray. Her small hands point to the plate. "I made the pancakes—see? With jam, strawberry, your favorite, so you better get better soon." Her words tumble out as she pauses to look at me with those big eyes, full of innocent love. I pull her into a hug, her body warm and squirmy. Emotion chokes me. I feel almost overwhelmed with happiness. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life.
We have breakfast together in bed, the tray between us, Blake sitting on the edge with his hand on my knee. Its presence sends little sparks up my leg. I try to focus on eating, the croissants crumbling and flaky as I bite into it, and the pancake melting sweetly on my tongue. Freya hugs Mr. Rabbit while she munches berries, juice staining her lips red. It is beautiful to watch. It is a dream come true. Laughter fills the room. The morning light warms everything, and the ocean crashes faint outside like a lullaby.
At one point, she hops down.
“I’m going to draw you a picture!" she says, and runs out of the room, her footsteps pattering down the hall. It leaves us alone as the door clicks shut softly.
Blake leans in then, his hand sliding up my thigh, and the tension builds sweetly. His eyes darken as he kisses me slowly, lips soft and insistent, his tongue brushing mine with that heat I've come to crave. My body responds despite the ache, a moan escaping as he pulls back, his breath warm on my neck.
"Feeling better?" he asks, his voice husky, thumb tracing circles on my skin—sensual and tender.
I nod, and feel emotion well up inside me, my love for him, and my appreciation at how safe I feel now with him.
"Where's Emma?" I ask as I shift the tray away. “Did you meet her?”
He smiles and tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering. “I did. She told me she’s your best friend.”
“She is,” I reply with a big grin. “She’s the sister I never had.”
“Well, she was actually here this morning," he says with a small laugh as he glances at the door. “But I sent her downstairs for breakfast. When Freya and I left the kitchen, I believe she was arguing with Dora about sourdough starters.”
He squeezes my hand gently. "They're like old friends already.”
This makes me laugh, but then it also makes me cry at how everything seems to be working out so perfectly that I am afraid that it is too good to be true. That it will all be taken away. I try to hide the tears glistening in my eyes, but Blake pulls me and holds me tight, his arms strong around me. Gently, he kisses my tears away with soft lips.
"Don't be scared or sad," he whispers, his voice thick with feelings. "You're mine now, and I'll take care of you until the end of my days. I swear it.”
Before I can even process his words, and to my shock, he gets on one knee right then, beside the bed, and pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. My heart stops in my chest. I watch his hand as he opens it.
