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‘Because I love you.’
Her eyes swept shut. ‘But why now?’
‘Because I missed you.’
‘But that’s not enough,’ she said, and now she sobbed, and his gut twisted. ‘I’ve been missing you too, like crazy. Walking out on you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Our marriage was just a fantasy, Antonio. There’s nothing here but revenge and hatred, and a baby. If I hadn’t fallen pregnant, you would never have come looking for me, right?’
‘And do you know how much I hate that? Do you know how terrifying that is? I cannot imagine my life without you, not for even one more day. Call it fate or destiny, for whatever reason this child was conceived, I thank every star in the heavens.’
‘A baby isn’t enough to make a marriage work.’
‘Our marriage,’ he said, taking a step closer and curling his hand behind her neck, holding her face towards his, ‘works.’ And he brushed his lips over hers, almost groaning at the taste of her, the familiar feel of her.
And she swayed against him, her body softening, and he kissed her again, relishing this—the familiar, the perfection. ‘Remember everything we are, everything good we have shared, and ignore this bitterness of mine towards your family. That is the future I promise you, querida. From this day forward, there is no anger, no resentment, no hatred. Our child is a Herrera and a diSalvo, and we are family.’
She sobbed into his mouth and he swallowed it, and kissed her deeper, harder, with all the urgency he felt in his chest, clawing at him, ripping him to pieces.
And when she pulled away it was as though he were drowning, and everything was dark and he was panicked, until she smiled and the sun burst into his life once more.
‘I don’t want to stay here,’ she said, and she brought her lips to his and kissed him and his heart exploded with the perfection of that moment. ‘Take me home, please.’
‘To Madrid?’
‘To our future.’
He stooped down and lifted her up, holding her against his chest as he moved back towards his car. He walked away from a home that had, that night, been wrapped in rain and storm clouds and was now bathed in milky afternoon sunshine.
And he smiled against her lips, because he had all he could ever want in life—and it was only going to get better.
EPILOGUE
‘YOU’RE CARRYING THE next baby!’ she groaned, squeezing his hand so hard he could almost feel bones crunching.
He laughed softly. ‘You said that last time.’
‘And I was right!’
‘You’re almost there,’ the doctor promised. ‘One last—’
‘Puuuuuuush!’ Amelia finished, a primal, guttural word. And then she collapsed back as a baby’s cry sounded.
‘Well?’ Antonio asked, impatient. ‘What is our son to have? A sister or a brother?’
‘On your way to a soccer team,’ she whispered, like her normal self now, a weak smile on her face.
‘It’s a girl.’ The doctor grinned. ‘And she’s got quite a kick already.’
‘A girl?’
Antonio smiled down at his wife, emotions surging through him. ‘A little version of you.’
She grinned, holding her hands out for the baby. ‘Javier won’t be happy. He was desperate for a little brother.’ And then tears sparkled on her lashes as she held her daughter, seeing her shock of black hair and honey skin.
‘Maybe next time,’ Antonio teased.
Amelia looked daggers at him. ‘Next time? Unless you really are going to become a marvel of modern medicine and be the pregnant one, then let’s not talk about “next time” right now.’
‘But why not? When we make such perfect babies?’
