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“Gideon?” I gulped and practically choked out his name.
“Hello, Julianna,” he said, taking a step closer. His voice was calm and smooth, but thick with emotion.
My eyes darted to Killian, looking at him for confirmation, and he gave me a single nod. My stomach twisted, fluttering with disbelief. “How?” I questioned softly.
Gideon took a seat next to my hospital bed, his fists clenched atop his knees. Almost like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out to me.
His kind eyes roved my face. “I had been in hiding ever since Bishop…” he swallowed, wincing. “Ever since he killed Eliza.”
My breath hitched, a lonely tear sliding down my cheek.
“Bishop never loved your mother. It was obsession and that only lasted for the first year of their marriage,” Gideon lamented. “Eliza was merely a trophy wife. She felt suffocated and I saw how much she hated Bishop. We grew closer and it just happened. You don’t choose who you love…”
He broke off, his expression growing bleak.
I figured as much – that while my mother might have had an affair, there had to be some kind of reason behind it. I knew it wasn’t a love marriage and though, I wasn’t condoning cheating… I didn’t blame my mother for wanting to have love, to find peace in another man’s embrace.
Especially now that I knew the type of man Bishop Romano was, I could only imagine how he was as a husband.
Shaking his head, Gideon ran a hand over his face, his body shaking. With anger and deep sorrow. “When I found out that you were supposed to marry Killian, I got a job as the stableman on Isle Rosa-Maria, with the hope of finally seeing you again. I just wanted to see my daughter, in person, instead of photos I saw online and from the media.”
“You never said anything to me,” I whispered.
A wave of pain crossed his face before he gave me a bittersweet smile. “I couldn’t. It would have been too dangerous and I had to thread carefully. In order to keep you safe. Anyway, I don’t think you would have believed me then, without proof, and sadly, I didn’t have any.”
I reached out for him and Gideon quickly grasped my hand in his, squeezing as if his life depended on it. His chest rattled with a relieved sigh.
I swallowed past the ball of heavy emotion in my throat and blinked the tears away. “Can you tell me a little bit more about my mother?”
Gideon smiled, real and kind. The type of fatherly smile I had craved for the longest time.
“Of course,” my father said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Julianna
One month later
His lips whispered over the back of my neck, his hands stroking down my arms before he cupped my small bump. At eleven weeks pregnant, my stomach was slightly protruding now, visible proof that there was, indeed, an innocent life growing inside of me.
My eyes caught his black wedding band and my chest filled with warmth at the sight of it. A week ago, Killian and I married again. It was a very small ceremony with only Emily, Stephen, William, Mirai, Selene and my father present.
This time, instead of vows of hate … Killian spoke about his love for me. He vowed to love me, to protect me and to cherish me for the rest of our days.
He didn’t leave me at the altar, of course. He lifted my veil and placed the most tender kiss on my lips. If I had to choose the best days of my life…
I had two of them.
The day I met Killian.
And the day I married him. Well, the second time I married him.
If Gracelynn was looking down at me right now, I wondered if she would be proud of me. That in the end, I chose love and happiness. I chose to live.
I knew it was what she would have wanted for me.
“I’m healed enough that I can bathe on my own now,” I said, fighting back a smile.
Killian hummed in response. “Is there a problem with me regularly bathing you, wife?”
“Not at all. I was just saying…”
His teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind my ear. “I like taking care of you.”
Taking care of me was an understatement. After I got discharged from the hospital, we came back to the island. The security had been tripled and was strict. No one was allowed on Isle Rosa-Maria without Killian’s written permission.
My husband had barely left my side for the last four weeks. If I winced, he was calling for Rani, our general physician, who was at our disposal on the island. If I made as much of a pained sound, he was on me, asking dozens of questions.
Where are you hurt? Is it the baby? Does your wound hurt? Should I call for Rani? Do you need the bathroom? Is it another headache? Are you feeling nauseous?
