Page 80 of From Rome, With Hate

It’s one thing to tell our parents we’re married. It’s another to tell them we’re marriedandexpecting a baby. But when I look into Julianna’s stunning blue eyes, I know I’ve never felt more at peace or at home than I do with her.

“Fuck yes, I’m still marrying you. We’re in this until we’re both nothing but flesh and bone rotting in the ground,” I tell her, gripping the back of her head.

“We’re getting cremated, but that’s for another day.” She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “Wow, this conversation turned morbid. Moving on.”

We both laugh, and my heart starts making its way back up to its rightful place in my chest. I run my thumb across the outer edge of her eye, still stunned she’s going to be my wife in less than ten minutes.

“You’re the love of my life, Lark.”

“You’re the love of mine,” she says, revealing a bright smile.

“Then, come on.” I place a kiss on her pretty mouth before nodding toward the doorway.

She sweeps up her bouquet of red roses sitting on the bed before slipping her hand into mine. She threads our fingers and looks up at me with a starry-eyed gaze. “Let’s go make me a Montgomery.”

My eyes drops to her stomach, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this hopeful of my own future. “You’re both already Montgomerys, but I guess it’s time we make this official.”

TWENTY-TWO

JULIANNA

I have no idea how long I’ve been trying to convince myself I’m tired enough to fall asleep. My conversation with Rome feels like hours ago, and I haven’t stopped replaying it in my mind.

The sound of his voice as he pleaded with me to listen to him. The way he spilled his guts, refusing to tell me he hated me. Then he had the fucking audacity to bring up the words he told me before our wedding day.

Honestly, up until he’d had a bouquet of roses delivered to me before Charleigh’s wedding ceremony, I hadn’t thought about that day again. It’s too heartbreaking to think about telling Rome I was pregnant, and him convincing me he’d love me even when we’d be corpses rotting underground.

I believed him wholeheartedly then, but it only took about two months for him to prove me wrong.

The sheet is wrapped tightly around my thigh as I toss and turn to my other side for the millionth time. My skin is sticky with sweat and my heart is pounding in my chest. I feel shackled, the chains of Rome’s love refusing to break.

I meant it then and I still mean it now.

Was he referring to when he’d confessed I was the love of his life? Or did he mean the rotting in the ground part? Or maybehe was talking about the moment he told me he’d be by my side every step of the way through my pregnancy?

What a crock of shit that turned out to be.

Rome Montgomery isn’t capable of commitment. Catching my husband kissing and touching Macy has forever been a stain on my memory that I wish I could erase forever.

But I can’t.

Then there’s the fact he can’t even be bothered to share any details about who is after us. How could I ever trust him when all he’s done is put distance between us?

There’s no denying the difference in his plea this time, though, like he truly meant the words coming out of his mouth. Could he really want things to be different? Do I?

Frustrated, I toss and turn again, the sheets getting even more tangled between my arms and legs. I can’t breathe like this. I kick and pound my fists against the bed like a toddler throwing a tantrum until the sheets loosen. Grinding my teeth, I groan before stopping and staring at the ceiling to catch my breath. Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’m strong, I’m independent, I’m this new version of Julianna. The carefree one.

Right?

Then, why do I wish Rome were laying with me?

Unwillingly, my mind wanders back to earlier when Rome kissed me. Kissing him feels like coming home, like the serenity and peace of this cabin and the land surrounding it. Safety and comfort. Electric and exhilarating all at once.

I clench my thighs at the thought of Rome tasting and touching me. His fingers feathered my skin, singlehandedly bringing me to life. I was pliable, every inch of me igniting while he savored me.

I liked it—no, Ilovedit—and I didn’t want him to stop.Shit.

Pulling myself up, I read the time on my phone. It’s one in the morning, and aside from my erratic breathing, the house is silent. There’s an unread message from my dad and another from Selene, asking when I’m coming home because my nephew misses me. My heart cracks at the thought. I absolutely adore Luca but it’s difficult to look at him without thinking ofher.