Page 69 of Promise To Marry You
Except, I’ve never truly been alone. He’s always been with me.
“Did you really think I would let my wife be by herself on a day like today?” His deep voice is full of warmth and comfort, and when he opens his arms, I run the rest of the way, straight into them.
For just a moment or two, I let him hold me, infusing me with the strength he always gives me. But the crinkle of the papers I belatedly realize he’s holding against my back has me nervously stepping back.
Sure enough, my eyes fall to the top page of the divorce papers I had drawn up, and my heart plummets. When I did that, I thought it was the right choice. To give Beck and me a fresh start at things. Except now I want nothing more than to be his wife. But is it what he wants?
I force myself to drop his hands instead wrapping my arms around my middle. I do remember to protect the dahlia I’m still clutching, as if it’s my lifeline — the thread of hope that all is not lost, and the man in front of me could still love me, even after I say what I need to say.
“You can’t call me that, Beck. I was never really your wife. Not in the way you wanted me to be. We got married for money, not for love, and that’s not fair to you. You deserve to have a real marriage. One that doesn’t start because of a stupid inheritance but starts because two people love each other.” I nod toward the papers in his hands. “There’s your out. Whether we start over and do it right by dating and figuring things out between us, or whether we end it now and go back to being friends is up to you. Because you deserve your perfect life, Beckett, even if it isn’t with me.” I see him open his mouth as if to object, and I know I have to push through and say it all. “You’ve always wanted the white picket fence and two-point-five children, and as much as I love you, I don’t think I can give you that.”
His mouth closes, and so do his eyes for just a second. But when they open again, there’s nothing in them except clear love. He steps forward, his hands coming to my shoulders and squeezing lightly before running them up and down my arms.
“Oh Cam. You crazy woman, there’s so much right in what you just said but also so much wrong. First of all, hear me on this. Whether it’s only on paper, or in our hearts, or both,you are my wife. And this marriage is very real. I brought these papers so I could convince you to rip them up, not so I could sign them. Because you are my past, present, and future. Second, I don’t want an out. No fucking way. My perfect life iswith you. Third, and most importantly —” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, and a shy smile blooms on his face “— did you just say you love me?”
I choke out a laugh because the excited happiness exuding from him is palpable. Nodding, I feel more damn tears welling up in my eyes and reach up to brush them away. Beckett’s hands cover my own, and he gently sweeps his thumb under my eyes.
“Good. Because I love you. More than anything in this world. And all I’ve ever wanted is for you to feel the same way.”
He moves in to kiss me, and my head wars with my heart. My hand landing on his chest halts him with those luscious lips hovering above mine.
“I don’t want kids, Beckett. At least, I don’t think I do. And you’d be such a good dad. Don’t you want that?”
His forehead drops down to meet mine. “I don’t want anything if I don’t have you by my side. What’s it gonna take, babe, for you realize thatyouare the missing piece? Not kids, not a white picket fence, not a big fancy wedding. Just you.”
With a strangled sob, I cup his face and bring his lips to mine. All the pent-up emotions, all the residual fears and pain ebb away as I lose myself in his kiss. His strong arms hold me tightly against him, the warm steady pulse of his heartbeat matches the thrum of mine.
I thought I needed to get on a plane to go home.
But all I needed was him.
Chapter thirty-three
Beckett
Fucking finally.
Camilla Byrne is in my arms, she told me she loves me, and she seems to believe she is theonlything I truly want in my life.
Wantandneed. Sorry, my brothers, but I do need this woman, like I need air to breathe. Because for three days, I’ve felt like I’m drowning without her, and now that she’s in my arms, I can breathe deeply again.
Eventually, Cam walks me up the hill to where her parents are buried and we stand at their graves for several moments. Her head is on my shoulder as she introduces me, and she turns to me and winks, then says, “He’s the one who brought you flowers every year, Mom.” I can’t hold back my chuckle.
“Figured it out, huh?”
She slowly turns to face me. “Yes, but what I can’t figure out is why you never told me.”
I shrug. “I didn’t do it for recognition, Cam. I did it because I know how much your Mom and Dad mean to you, and I hated the idea of you being here alone every year. It wasn’t my place to be here with you then, but I could at least make you feel like someone else out there was thinking of you and your parents.”
“I assumed it was Grandpa,” she murmurs, her voice laced with regret. “All these years, it was you.”
“Hey. Don’t feel bad or sad, or anything like that.” I cup her cheeks with my hands. “I held zero expectations for anything from you. This was just something I wanted to do, to pay my respects to the people that brought the most incredible woman into the world.”
Turning her cheek into my palm, I feel her lips curl up into a smile. “Thank you.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead. “You in my arms is all the thanks I’ll ever need.”
I feel her take in a deep inhale and let it out slowly before she lifts her head to look at me. “Let’s go home.”
