“I already know—”
“About the gift box. I had absolutely no idea it existed. Allow me to stress further that if I had wanted to hide it from you, you would have never found it.”
I sighed. “I know that now.”
“I know you know that. I knew you would have been angry, and I know you had every right to be. But to assume or to believe that I would do something as despicable as infidelity?” His expression was quick to switch from indifference to hurt. “You know my history with that, Zahra.”
I sighed. “I know—”
“Yet you said those things. Youthoughtthose things about me.”
“I didn’t mean them—I was just angry. I knew you wouldn’t do that to me, but I was sad, the note in the card was pretty convincing, and I believed it because it was better to believe it than to not believe it and be disappointed and hurt more later on if it turned out to be true.”
He shook his head. “You still doubted me after everything. I know I am not good with actions; I know my words sometimes are the only things I can show you, but I promise you, Zahra, I haveneverlied to you about my feelings for you. I mean every word I say. I don’t joke with us. I don’t fucking joke with you, Zahra.”
My heart was hammering, and I was regretting those text messages, recalling how I had told him his words meant nothing.
This time, he walked closer, taking up the remaining space between us as he raised his hand to smooth my hair away from the side of my face. “Do I have to spell it out?” he asked quietly as I raised my head, our eyes locking. “Hm?” he questioned, tilting his head as his knuckles brushed from my chin to my jawline until he was cupping the side of my face.
My mouth went dry.
“If the fact that I told you that you were my life and that you mean everything to me doesn’t make any sense to you, if you want me to say how I feel in layman’s words, in a way that doesn’t touch the depths of what I feel for you, then all right. I love you.” His fingers caressed my neck, his bright gray eyes searching the browns of mine. “I love you, and that is the simplest way I can put it.”
I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t even sure I was breathing. But it was suddenly difficult to take in oxygen, and to stand, and to do remotely anything.
Elio pressed his body even closer to mine, placed his forehead on mine, closed his eyes, and breathed feverishly.
“Te amo, Zahra,” he said. “Tú tienes mi corazón.”
I love you, Zahra. You have my heart.
The warmth from his body flowed into mine as he moved, leaned farther in, tilted his head, and pressed his lips to mine. A kiss that had me holding on to his shirt, a connection that had my heart mirroring the exact rhythm of his. An intoxication that had my stomach going to war with itself.
Anger failed me, agility betrayed me, and the fight in me no longer existed. Everything in me was him and this, and I kissed him back with as much attention, as much detail, and as much fervor. My hand left its hold on his shirt and moved to the side of his face as I got on my toes, parting my lips, brushing my tongue with his, tasting him, feeling him, wanting him.
He loves me.
Me.
I buried my fingers in his hair, tugging and breaking the kiss as my eyes searched his. “You love me?”
“I do.”
Something swelled in my chest, and I joined my lips with his again—I didn’t understand why I felt the urge to cry. But I could feel what he felt. I knew the love he carried because I carried it too.
I could feel the pounding of his heart against mine.
I loved that he could tell me. I loved that at least one of us could voice it. I loved the way he had expressed it.
I appreciated that he did.
I wanted to voice it, too; I wanted to tell him—break this kiss and tell him how I felt, how light and free he made me feel.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. Not now, at least. Doing it meant giving away the last piece of myself.
I wasn’t ready, and with the way he kissed me back, I knew he understood. He placed no pressure on me, and I appreciated that as well.
I never bargained for this when I took back my freedom, but one thing I knew was that I was never letting go of this feeling. I was never letting go of him.
