Page 243 of Damsel in Disguise

“You knew I lied to you.”

“Yes.”

“You still signed the marriage certificate.”

“I did,” I murmur, closing the distance between us until the space between our bodies evaporates.

She swallows hard, looking up through her lashes.

My hand moves before she could think of an escape, fingers wrapping firmly around the delicate curve of her throat—not to hurt, but to anchor her, to claim every frantic beat of the pulse that always betrayed her secrets to me.

And I tilt her face up, my thumb resting right against the hollow of her jaw. “And now, let’s make you true to your word.”

Her cheeks turn a beautiful, burning pink.

A gasp caught right beneath my lips as I lean down and kiss her.

It’s a possessive, a dark promise that leaves no room for calculation as I pull her narrow frame completely against mine.

With that, the last of our secrets dissolve into kisses and me coming inside her on repeat for the rest of the night.

Each time she complains that she can’t take it anymore, I remind her the exact line she sang along with Grande, “I’d give this pussy to you nine-to-five, five-to-nine.”

Life possesses a deeply ironic sense of humor. Ultimately the lie became reality.

Ariella is still sitting beneath the jacaranda tree out in the garden. Her book remains forgotten. One hand rests over the child growing safely beneath her heart.

Our child.

The concept still refuses to fit inside any formula I know.

There’s no theorem capable of measuring the weight of a future that suddenly contains another heartbeat. No logical principle that justifies how a tiny pair of shoes waiting by our front door can feel infinitely more valuable than the decades of sterile control I abandoned.

For the first time in my life, I possess something I cannot quantify. A family.

She finally notices that I’ve stopped pretending to read the encrypted CynoTech updates scattered across my desk but watching her.

Our eyes meet through the glass. She smiles—that bright, uncurated smile that used to exist only behind screens and shadows—then she slowly stands and walks towards the house, her eyes never leave mine as she disappears inside.

A familiar anticipation settles beneath my skin. The kind that has nothing to do with research reports or encrypted files.

I remove my reading glasses and set them aside on top of the files. Leaving the paperwork scattered just as it is, I head straight for the bathroom.

I need a shower. The work can wait.

After stripping out of my clothes, I step inside the glass stall and start the shower, letting cold water rain down over my heated body.

A few moments later, I hear the faintest sound of our bedroom door open down the hall. A smirk finds its way on my face.

Soon, a familiar, curved shadow lingers just beyond the frosted glass. The smirk turns into a wicked grin.

“Come inside, little kitty.”

Her silhouette emerges through frosted glass before she steps fully inside, naked.

For a moment, I simply look at her.

Pregnancy has changed her in ways I never anticipated myself noticing.