Page 240 of Diego

“I know I have an apartment. I know I was only supposed to be staying at the lake house because of the hematoma and because everyone was worried about me being alone. It made sense then. But somewhere along the way…” I kick at the floor. “I guess it stopped feeling temporary to me.”

Silence stretches for a few seconds.

When I finally look up, Diego is staring at me as if I have just said something completely ridiculous.

My stomach drops.

Then he pushes away from the dresser and crouches in front of me, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him.

“You think that I was waiting for a doctor to clear you so I could send you packing back to your apartment?”

I shrug one shoulder again.

He rests his hands on my knees. “I bought that house because I wanted somewhere that made sense for a family,” he says. “I brought you there because you needed somewhere safe to recover, yes. But sometime between those two things, it stopped being my home, and it became ours. I thought you knew that.”

My throat tightens.

“I didn’t,” I say hoarsely.

“Blair, I never had any intention of you leaving.”

I blink back tears. “You didn't?”

“No.” There is no irritation in it. If anything, he sounds almost amused. “Do you want to stay?”

“Yes.” The answer is almost immediate.

His hands slide higher along my legs, over my thighs, and around my back. He pulls me closer to the edge, so he can slip between my legs.

“Blair, you are the most stubborn, argumentative, hard-headed woman I’ve ever met.”

His hands tighten around my waist as his expression softens. “And somewhere along the way, I fell completely in love with you. I never pictured myself with a woman who argued with me as much as you do, but I love you even when you do, even when you're driving me insane. I don’t want a life where you go back to your apartment, and I only get pieces of you.”

He leans closer until his forehead rests against mine. “I love you, amore mio. I want you in my home, in my bed, in my life. I want to raise this child with you. I want all of it with you.”

For a second, I can only stare at him.

His hands are warm against my waist, his forehead still resting against mine, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing while mine refuses to even out.

“You love me,” I whisper.

His lips curve. “I do.”

A laugh escapes me through the tears I am trying unsuccessfully to stop. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“I love you.”

This time there is nothing teasing in his voice.

I slide my hands up his chest and around the back of his neck. “I love you too.”

The words feel frighteningly easy once they are out.

Diego’s eyes search mine as though he needs to be certain he heard me correctly, and I smile because apparently neither of us is as confident as we pretend when it comes to this.

“I have for a while,” I admit. “I just kept finding other explanations for it. The baby. Living together. You taking care of me. Everything being complicated.”

“And now?”