Nothing I do will bring him back. I will carry the guilt, but I won’t let it stir me. I’ll let it be my reminder.
To choose better. To be better. As a man. As a husband. As a father.
“Where are you going?” she protests.
“I want to show you something.” I pad across the room and get the newspaper at the front door of our suite.
“You want to read me the business section? That’s my love language.” Sitting up, she props herself against the pillows.
Naked. Comfortable. Mine.
I flip to the society section, and wince at the picture before I hand it to her anyway.
She snatches the page. “Who even reads newspapers nowadays?” She scans the article, and her eyes widen. “What the hell? Did you do this?”
“Maybe.” I smirk.
“You announced we got married last weekend? In the society column for all the world—well, high society—to see?”
“Yes.” I sit at the foot of the bed.
“There was no wedding.”
“I know. I’m the groom.”
She narrows her eyes. “According to this, you’re my husband.”
“Only if you want me to be.”
“What’s your game here, Stone?”
“You hated the wedding prep. I didn’t want to playour fathers’ game. Now, your father gets what he wants. And we can get a marriage certificate or not. Have a wedding or not. It’s up to you.”
She glances at our photograph in the papers, courtesy of Photoshop, and then at me. “It’s up to me? There are two people in this relationship, Liam.”
“Almost three.” I lean forward and kiss her belly. “Okay, I want you to be my wife. Yesterday would have been too late. If you’re game, I’ll call my lawyer to file for a marriage license.”
Her lips stretch into a slow smile. “That is the best proposal ever, Romeo.”
A fucking full circle, and here we are, and I’m the happiest bastard in the world. “Is that a yes, Foxy?”
“Yes.” She scrambles to her knees and crawls to me. “A hundred times, yes.”
We kiss, and my cock demands attention immediately.
I pull her closer, but she resists. “As much as I would like to celebrate our marriage, we have a busy day. Get dressed, husband.”
Husband. It hits like a vow.
“So you want me to walk around with a boner all day?” I groan when she jumps out of bed and rushes to the bathroom.
She turns in the doorway, her naked curves calling me like sirens. “Maybe I can allow a shower quickie tohelp you out with that problem.” She wiggles her behind, laughing.
I bite her shoulder gently. “You allow? It’s cute you still believe you have a choice here.”
“Stop talking.” She crooks her finger, luring me in. “We don’t have time.”
“I don’t want another surprise.” I drag my feet through Central Park, which is buzzing with strollers, dogs, vendors, and laughter.
