It’s so fucking admirable and selfless that I tear up for the goddamn umpteenth time today.
“Is that what you want?” I ask her bluntly. “Do you want a divorce, Trina? Do you want this to be over?”
She stands tall even though tears are streaming down her cheeks. “I want you to be happy. I want you to have Mr. Abdon in your life.”
I stare into her stormy blue eyes. “What do you want? I want to know what you really want and don’t make it about me, Trina. Be selfish. Tell me what would make you happy.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “I can’t say.”
“Say it.” I hear the plea in my tone. “I feel it. I just need you to say it. You were going to tell me tonight during our special dinner. I know you were.”
“You were going to say it too,” she says.
Her hands leap up to cup my wrists as I hold her face.
We stare at each other like that, each knowing what this moment means for us.
“I love you,” I confess. “With everything I am, I fucking love you, Trina.”
“I love you,” she finally says the words to me. “I want to be your wife. I want that more than anything.”
“We’ll get married again.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “The right way this time with your family and Lloyd. He’ll play the harmonica at the reception.”
She nods. “I’ll sign anything Morty No-Last-Name needs me to sign.”
I laugh. “You don’t need to sign a thing. You need to dance with me at our wedding and every anniversary party we’re going to have.”
She kisses my chin. “And we’ll have a baby or two?”
“At least.” I laugh. “We’ll teach them how to love. We’ll take them to the beach and cook hot dogs over an open fire…”
“And dip our toes in the water?”
“We’ll help them grow into good people.”
“Like us?” she asks.
“I haven’t always been a good person,” I confess. “I did things when I was young. I stole. I got into fights. I talked back.”
“We all make mistakes, Graham.” She looks me in the eye. “You’ve grown into an incredible, honorable man.”
“I want to be a man that my wife can be proud of.”
She presses her lips to mine for a soft kiss. “I am extremely proud of you, Graham Locke.”
“I am too.”
We both turn at the sound of Lloyd’s voice.
“Lloyd?” Graham darts toward the bed. “You’re awake.”
Lloyd reaches up to trail a hand over the oxygen tube running into his nose. “I’m still here?”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Graham smiles. “We need you too much.”
“Trina,” Mr. Abdon says my name softly. “Come here. Come closer.”
I do as he asks and take a place standing next to Graham.
“I’m sorry.” Lloyd looks at me. “I had no idea that you two had fallen in love.”
“You heard us talking?” Graham asks. “You heard all of that?”
“Every word,” he acknowledges with a curt nod before he looks at Graham. “Your wife took the blame to save our relationship, Bull. She did that for you.”
Graham scoops his hand around my waist. “I married the most incredible woman in the world, and as soon as you’re back on your feet, we’re having the wedding we never had.”
“You don’t have to hold off on my account.”
Graham leans down to smooth a hand over Mr. Abdon’s forehead. “We sure as hell do. You’re my best man. I need you beside me when I marry my wife.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Trina
“I grew up in foster care.” Graham glances at me as we wait in the corridor for Dr. Morgan to finish examining and speaking with Lloyd. “I aged out while in care. I was technically in the care of a couple at that time, but Lloyd and his wife paid for my tuition at The Buchanan School. I spent my summer and winter breaks working and splitting my time between my friends’ homes. Sometimes, I’d stay with Lloyd and Sela for a few nights. Occasionally, I’d head back over to my foster parents’ house to crash, but I lost touch with them over the years. I didn’t have a real home or a family.”
I step closer to him, so that I can wrap both my arms around him. “You do now. You have Lloyd and me. You’re also an important part of the Shaw family even though most of them don’t know it yet.”
“You think your family is going to like me?”
I smile as I study his handsome face. “They will. I told my mom that I love you.”
That earns me a deep kiss.
“Wow,” I whisper when our lips part. “That was something else.”
“You told your mom about me?” His face lights up. “Today?”
“Or yesterday?” I shrug. “I don’t know what time it is, and I don’t care.”
“For once, I don’t either.” He laughs.
I trail a finger over his jaw. “You were afraid to tell me about your past. Why? Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”