“Oh my God.”
The air is knocked from my lungs as my knees physically weaken beneath me, and I grip the kitchen counter to keep from falling to the floor. My eyes move from Ford’s broad, tatted chest up to his eyes, watching as realization dawns on his face at what he’s unintentionally revealed to me.
Because right there, stretching from one side of his chest to the other, surrounded by an intricate design of brush strokes and swirls, ismynamein bold, black ink.
He looks to his chest and back up again, watching me as though fearful I’ll bolt.
“If I couldn’t keep you, I could keep you with me.” He presses the flat of his palm to my name, right over where his heart resides. The action makes me gasp as the enormity of everything he’s disclosed these past days permeates me down to my very bones. “Because even when my arms couldn’t hold you, my heart always held you close.”
My nostrils flare as a ball of raw emotion forms in the back of my throat. I can’t breathe, I can’t speak, I can’t move. I can only feel the uncompromisingloveflowing between our bodies, as though it never left.
And in a way, I don’t think it ever did because even though this man broke my heart, I’ve still loved him with every single fragmented piece.
I don’t think I could ever truly stop.
The sound of the elevator alerts us that Hayley—the only person with penthouse access besides Ford or myself—has returned, and if the incoming ruckus is anything to go by, she’s brought my ICON prep team with her.
Ford’s lips quirk on one side in a half-smile as he tosses his discarded t-shirt over one shoulder. “I’ll bring you that omelet when you’re settled. Eat it. You’ll need the energy for later.”
Then he quickly escapes to his room before chaos descends, successfully distracting my mind from the revelations bouncing around my brain as I prepare for a gala like no other.
Four hours later, I’m plucked, primped, preened, and pampered to within an inch of my life when my cell chimes several times in a row. Hayley rises from her place at my back, where she’d been helping Simone to button up the gazillion buttons on the back of my Ava Sinclair masterpiece under the watchful eye of my stylist, Carter, to pass me the device.
“It’s the family group chat. Look!”
She glances over my shoulder, her lips curling in a smile to match the one on my own face as we read the messages on the screen.
REESE
Best of luck tonight, Em xx
DAD
What have I forgotten to remember now? *face palm*
REESE
It’s an award ceremony, dear. Emmy is presenting to Mimi Harper!
DAD
Oh wow! Tell her I said hi, Em. And best of luck. Is it being televised?
EASTON
Good luck, Em. And yes, Dad. It’s online. I’ll send you the link.
Hayley chuckles at my side, and I turn to catch her shining eyes. “Your dad cracks me up. For such a smart man, he’s really quite oblivious.”
I join her laughter even as I shake my head and type my reply.
ME
Thanks guys! I’ll smile extra wide just for you xx
Then I pass Hayley my cell before I adjust my stance slightly. The dress is heavier than I remember it being before, and I glance down, noting the mass of feathers on the train that Ava must have added as an afterthought. I’m suddenly grateful for the delicious omelet Ford delivered as promised, watching silently as I ate every bite.
And as though manifested from my thoughts into reality, there’s a sharp knock at the bedroom door before his deep baritone fills the room.
