“I loveyou.” My voice breaks on the word. “It’s always been you, Rowan.”
His eyes shine in the dim light, and he lowers his forehead to mine, our breaths mingling in the space between us. “Say it again,” he rasps, echoing my words back to me.
“I love you,” I repeat, stronger this time. “I loved you when you were gone. I loved you when I thought I’d never see you again.”
He captures my lips in a kiss so tender my heart bursts, and I kiss him hard enough to memorize his mouth, the soft scrape of stubble against my skin, and the way his hands frame my face like I’m something fragile and irreplaceable.
“I don’t deserve this,” he says softly against my lips.
“Rowan…”
“I don’t,” he insists, shaking his head. “You have no idea how many nights I sat with my keys in my hand, thinking I’d drive back here.”
I reach for him instinctively, but he pulls back, just a little.
“I’m so damn scared I’m gonna let you down again. I swear to god, Violet, if I do…I’ll never forgive myself.”
“You won’t,” I say firmly. “I know exactly who you are, Rowan. I’ve seen you at your worst and your best, and I still choose you. All of you.”
“Violet—”
“I’m terrified, too,” I admit, my voice catching. “You think I’m not scared you’ll leave again? That one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone? But that’s what love is. It’s choosing someone even when it’s scary.”
“I’m not perfect, either,” I continue, softer now. “I don’t always say the right thing. I convince myself I can handle everything alone when I really can’t. But I need you to believe me when I say that I’m all in. This isn’t conditional.”
His eyes search mine, looking for any hint of doubt. “I’m going to make mistakes.”
“So will I. But I’d rather mess up with you than get it perfect with anyone else.”
He lowers his head to my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin as he whispers, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You don’t have to deserve me,” I reply. “I’m just…yours.”
He lifts his head from my shoulder.
“Mine,” he says, the single word resonating with possessiveness.
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Is that your caveman impression?”
He nips at my earlobe. “Hush. Just say it again.”
“Yours, Rowan.”
His devilish grin is the only warning before he launches himself at me like he’s been waiting for permission his entire life. Kisses rain down everywhere he can reach—my cheek, my jaw, my nose, my shoulder.
I squeal, squirming beneath him. “You’re attacking me!”
“Affectionately,” he adds, punctuating the word with another kiss. “This is very serious.”
I’m laughing so hard it hurts, my sides aching, my heart somehow even fuller than it was a moment ago.
I have been, and always will be, his.
twenty-seven
. . .
Rowan
