I stand on the tips of my toes so my lips hover over his. “Daisuki.” I press my mouth against his, and he releases a shuddery breath. “Szeretlek.”He groans as I deepen the kiss, only to pull away breathless not a minute later. “Ich liebe dich.” I repeat the same three words he whispered to me back when he made love to me.
His eyes shut as if he is experiencing a sensory overload.
“I love you,” I finish in English, just to get my message across because I most likely ruined the pronunciation of all the words.
“Say it again.” His darkening eyes linger on my mouth.
“I. Love. You.”
He kisses the top of my forehead. The pain etched into his face guts me, knowing he spent thirty-six years of his life believing he was unlovable—all because of his shitty, abusive father.
I cup his cheek. “I will always love you. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.”
“You say that now…” His voice drifts off as his eyes dart away.
My chest clenches. “And I’ll say it every day until you finally believe it.”
“It could take forever.”
I trace his wedding band with the tip of my finger. “It’s a good thing all we have is time.”
1 Arabic: “You bury me.”
EPILOGUE
IRIS
One Year Later
“Is he busy?” I stop in front of Declan’s assistant’s desk.
“Go on in.” He shakes his head with a smile before returning his attention to his computer screen.
I walk up to Declan’s office door and knock a fist against the wood like I’ve done hundreds of times before. His deep rumble of a voice makes it past the door, and I open it before he has a chance to protest.
“I told you I don’t want to be disturb—” His voice drops off as our eyes connect. The frown on his face quickly morphs into his signature small smile that makes me weak in the knees.
My legs wobble, and I nearly roll my ankle before righting myself.
He stands and helps me into my chair before I do something unfortunate like land face-first against the carpet. The way he acts ever since I announced I was pregnant makes me feel like he won’t rest until I’m permanently protected in bubble wrap.
“I told you to stop wearing those death traps weeks ago.” Ever since Declan read one horror story about a pregnant woman and heels, he hasn’t let the subject go. I’m afraid I will come home one day to an empty closet and a fireplace burning with all my prized possessions.
“I want to enjoy my shoes while I can still see them.” I pat my small baby bump.
“They’re dangerous.”
“I’ve been walking around in heels since I was a toddler and discovered my mother’s closet. Don’t insult me like that.”
He presses his lips against the top of my head. “How’s my favorite girl?”
I almost correct him but hold back.
Don’t ruin the surprise.
“I woke up without running to the toilet, so I count today as a success worth celebrating.” I place the takeout bag from our favorite Italian restaurant on Declan’s desk.
He laughs as he takes a seat in his chair across from me. “What did the doctor say about your morning sickness?”