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Zander holds my face between his hands. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. With his thumbs, he wipes my tears and then gently kisses my lips.
“Your lips are so soft,” he says in a wistful tone. “They always are whenever you cry.” He runs his thumb back and forth over my bottom lip. “I’m addicted to them.”
“I can cry whenever you like,” I state sincerely, and I know I’d do that, just for him.
“I would rather you not.” He chuckles before hugging me tight.
When I turn my face toward my bed, I notice a wine bucket placed over my nightstand.
Crab.
Great, Rose! Your fiancé planned an amazing surprise, and you turned it into a sob party.
“I’m sorry for ruining the surprise.” I try to pull away from him, but he holds me captive, halting my movement and urging me to look at his handsome face.
“You ruined nothing. You don’t know what it does to me, seeing you aching for me just as I do for you, couch girl. You crying for me and missing me like this makes me feel so loved and…cherished.”
I rise on my toes and kiss his lips, pulling him down with my hands around his neck. “And I do. I love you so much.”
Not wanting to further ruin his surprise with my sappy mood, I grab his hand, and we both make the brief journey from my door to bed, where more pink and red flower petals are scattered, which I now see are roses.
I turn to him, and his gaze is riveted on me.
To know this man would go to such lengths to make one evening special for me is beyond comprehension.
How did I get so fortunate?
His mere presence makes me believe that I was alone for so long because someone as caring and loving as Zander was meant to enter my life and take away all those years of pain.
“How did you do all this?” I point to the flowers.
On our first night together, Zander told me about his childhood. How after his father’s death, his drug-addict mother moved her and her three sons in with her drug dealer. Those years changed his and his brothers’ lives forever. That man’s house became a living hell for the boys as he tortured them physically and mentally.
Zander’s mother’s name was Rose, and he hasn’t forgiven her for her actions. He hates anything that relates to her, her name, and the flower, as it stirs painful memories for him.
Do I blame him? Hell fishing no!
My cold blood starts to simmer, my own demons crawling from the dark, hating the people who didn’t protect us.
“Hey, where did you go?” Zander’s hands run up and down my arms, making me realize how tense my body is.
“I don’t want you to remember any nightmares while doing anything for me.”
“I didn’t. I could bear thousands of crappy memories to see one smile on your face, but I only focused on your fondness for soft, pink things.” Zander smiles, giving me his dimple that he knows I love so much.
He fell in love with me, a woman who not only holds his mother’s name but also has her own positive association with the flower, which is, to say the least, ironic.
Zander picks the red wine from the wine bucket, his cherry-red tie wrapping around the dark-green merlot bottle.
The corners of my mouth quirk up at the reminder of our awkward dating days. It was the tie he wore when I met him for the first time. It was the tie he wore when he declared to a room full of Elixir Inc.’s staff that I was his girlfriend.
“You are the best,” I tell him. “You remember everything. Every detail.”
“I try. After all, I have to keep up with your photographic memory.” He hands me a glass of wine before pouring a second for himself. “Thank you, Rose, for agreeing to be mine.” He clinks his glass against mine.
“Thank you so much for wanting me.”
5
