Page 122 of Forever My Saint


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I can’t keep the tears at bay.

“It’ll just be us against the world.”

“Just how it’s always been,” I whisper.

“And besides, I think Harriet Pot Pie misses you.”

The mere mention of her and the prospect of going back to the island have my lower lip quivering. It was there I felt safe. It was there we made a home. “Okay, let’s do it. Let’s go get my chicken. But more importantly…let’s live.”

Saint’s grin is everything and so much more because finally…he looks happy. “I can’t promise you it’ll be hearts and roses, but what I can promise is that I give you me. All of me. Every flawed, vulnerable piece. Take it. It’s yours.”

“That’s all I ever wanted.”

He brushes his nose against mine. “Better pack your passport, Ms. Emma Miller. The world awaits us.”

And it does…

His comment reminds me that Saint and Willow are no more. But when I get lost in those chartreuse orbs, I know that regardless of our names, of the obstacles we face, or where we are, he’ll always be…forever my Saint.

How lucky am I?

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