Page 130 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

The question felt fragile. Like she hoped I would say something that gave us a plan for a future together.

The flashing lights of the Strip blurred as I thought about her question.

“I want this. Not necessarily Vegas, but the peace. I want to wake up with the woman I love in my arms and go to sleep the same way. Other than that, I don’t care.”

Her gaze softened in a way that almost undid me.

“You deserve that.” She kissed my cheek.

And in that moment, it didn’t feel like a lie that I told myself. It felt like a possibility.

KAYLANI

Goran had gone to great lengths to make tonight perfect. He remembered me mentioning, almost in passing, that I wanted to see a Cirque du Soleil show and eat at my favorite chef’s restaurant. He made both of those dreams come true.

The theater lights dimmed. Music rose from the dark, and the large drums mimicked a heartbeat. Then they appeared. Bodies flew through the air, suspended in colorful silk. Balancing impossibly high above the stage, spinning as if gravity were optional.

The jewel tones and metallic shimmer floated across the stage and through the air. The light caught every movement as if magic had become visible.

I grabbed Goran’s hand without thinking and loved that he didn’t pull away.

Acrobats leapt into one another’s arms without hesitation. Women stood on the shoulders of men and bent backward, confident that those holding their ankles would keep them from falling. Aerialists dropped from the ceiling only to be caught at the last second. It felt like watching one of my fantasy books come to life.

They risked it all, trusting completely.

Goran leaned close, his mouth near my ear.

“Would you do that?”

“What?”

“Fall blindly into someone’s arms.”

I looked deep into Goran’s eyes and answered.

“I already did.”

The lights flared as performers spun in a final crescendo, and the applause thundered around us, but all I saw was him. Those hazel eyes filled with love and warmth were my home. He treated me like I was his everything. Like I always had been. My heart soared as easily as those on stage.

For a moment, the world didn’t feel dangerous.

It felt enormous, bright, and full of possibility. The pressure of my name had been lifted. Instead, I lived in the moment with the man that I loved.

The fountains were still dancing when we pulled up to the front of our hotel.

Water arced into the night sky in choreographed waves, illuminated by warm light. Music drifted across the surface, rising and falling in perfect rhythm with the spray. No matter how many times I saw this show, it never got old.

Couples stood along the railing with phones raised, and laughter carried on the warm desert air. The building behind us rose in creamy tiers of balconies and glowing windows, curved and elegant like something pulled from a European postcard. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a place where dreams were wrapped and sold in luxury, and every wish came true.

Goran’s hand slid into mine as we walked along the fountain’s edge, taking in the sight.

“You realize,” I said quietly, watching the lights ripple across the lake, “we skipped our honeymoon the last time we were here.”

Goran huffed a quiet laugh. “You kind of skipped the proposal.”

“Details.” I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

He stopped walking and turned me toward him. Under the glow of a thousand neon lights, his expression shifted. He no longer looked at me like a guard or a soldier. He looked at me like my husband.