Page 62 of All's Fair in War & Amor

Our eyes locked, and the entire room seemed to shift into slow motion. I held her gaze as I reached my arm beneath her pillow, my fingers wrapping around the familiar, cool weight of the solid gold heart I had hidden there before we fell asleep.

I pulled my hand out and held it between us, resting the heavy heirloom locket flat in my palm. Vanessa’s eyes went wide. With the pad of my thumb, I grazed a hidden pressure spot on the side that she never would have found on her own. With asoft, metallic click, the gold casing popped open just a fraction of an inch.

Propping myself up on one elbow, I pried the heart fully open in my hand.

Nestled perfectly inside the velvet-lined chamber was a brilliant diamond engagement ring.

The first tear slipped down her cheek, dropping onto the lavender pillowcase and staining the fabric a deep, bruised purple.

“I don’t want just thirty days with you, Vanessa. I don’t want a few months or a few years, either. I want every single one of them,” I said, my voice thick with an emotion so fierce it made my hands shake. “Whether you’re furious with me, whether we’re screaming and fighting—no matter what happens. I want all of your days, right here with me. I can’t promise I’ll ever be perfect—God knows I won’t be—but I can promise that I’ll spend the rest of my life madly in love with you, because that’s exactly how I’ve spent the first part of it. Vanessa Gregoria Miranda…”

When I asked her dad for permission to ask for her hand he had slipped and revealed her middle name.

I didn’t even get the chance to finish the question. She launched her entire body across the mattress at me, her mouth crashing into mine in a hard, desperate, breathless kiss.

“YES. YES. YES.”

epilogue

VANESSA

Months later,I finally accepted that my life would never follow a natural, predictable order. Instead, it zigged and zagged all over the place—like a chaotic game of Plinko onThe Price Is Right.

I had been gearing up for the first of my upcoming hardware-removal surgeries, and Elliott had been completely immovable, showing up for every single appointment. He even insisted on sitting in the waiting room for the mundane ones where I just had blood drawn and didn't even see a specialist.

Because it was standard medical protocol before any invasive procedure, the clinic ran a routine pregnancy test. And of course, it came back glaringly positive, because my life absolutely loved to give a massive, ringingfuck youto any neatly laid plans I tried to make. I was also fairly certain the surprise had everything to do with the sheer volume of frantic, making-up-for-lost-time sex we’d been having. Surely standard birth control could only handle so much semen before it surrendered entirely.

I decided pretty early on to let my sister throw me a gender reveal party. Between her and Morgan, I knew it was bound to be a gloriously expensive, aggressively over-the-top affair. Unfortunately, the little spawn growing inside me had entirelydifferent plans. A proper gender reveal party required the baby’s sex to remain an actual secret—emphasis onsecret.

Instead, during the anatomy scan, the little guy spread his legs as wide as he possibly could, proudly showing off his tiny penis to the entire room exactly the way I imagined his father would. It was so glaringly obvious on the monitor that even Elliott and I could read it clear as day. The kid was only missing a tiny canvas trench coat to fully complete the flashing perv-in-training aesthetic.

When I looked over at Elliott, I figured he’d react the way most guys did—fist-pumping the sterile air, hooting and hollering about bringing another bro-dude into the world to continue the family line. But when my eyes found his face, he was entirely stoic and silent. He must have felt me watching him because he pulled his gaze from the screen and offered me a small, half-hearted smile.

I recognized that expression instantly. It was the exact same heavy look he wore right before every single one of my appointments—the familiar shadow of deep, quiet worry and protective fear.

* * *

ELLIOTT

I was so entirely gone for this woman. I had been for a long, painful time. Standing there in the ultrasound room, the familiar weight of regret pressed against my ribs—a constant reminder of every single second I had wasted over the last ten years when I could have had her right next to me. In my arms, in my bed, and in my life.

Lately, she’d taken to wandering around the house wearing nothing but my oversized button-down dress shirts and a pair of tiny boy-shorts, which was nothing short of psychological torture. The exact minute she started doing it, I began walking around the house with a perpetual hard on. Even now, with her belly rounding with our child, I couldn't get close enough to her. The sheer depth of what I felt for her was rare—sacred, even—and I never spoke it aloud. I just wanted to ball the feeling up inside my chest, hoarding it all to myself so the world couldn't touch it.

Right now, she was curled up on the living room couch, happily watching someone get brutally murdered on a true-crime show. Steve had assumed his usual defensive position, standing guard with his tiny body pressed directly against her stomach, looking like he was entirely prepared to throw himself in front of oncoming traffic if anyone dared threaten Vanessa or the baby.

I walked around the back of the couch and sat down opposite her. Like clockwork, the dog let out a low, menacing growl at me. He’d been doing that since before the pregnancy test had even confirmed the news, and now I finally understood the logic. He was overprotective. It was as if the tiny animal was personally furious with me for putting her body through this after everything she'd already survived. Little did the dog know, Vanessa had been an extremely enthusiastic, vocal participant in the process.

Vanessa giggled, the bright, musical sound she always made whenever Steve went on high alert. I scooted closer across the cushions and swatted at the dog playfully to get him to vacate my spot. He let out a gruff, offended huff before jumping down and scurrying out of the room.

It was terrifying—loving her this much. Lovingthemthis much.

The further along the pregnancy progressed, the more Vanessa found subtle, gentle ways to bring up our future, testing the waters to see if I would panic. And it was hard. I had lost both of my parents when I was just a kid, and I had spent my entire life believing I would never love anyone the way I loved them—until right now.

I knew, down to my absolute marrow, that I would protect this family with every single thing I had left in me. And lucky for me, I had a wife who understood the ghosts I carried, and loved me anyway.