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My eyes drift shut for one deep breath. When they open and all I see is my Andromeda, every nerve in my body calms. Every doubt in my mind gets washed away.
This is Shelly. My Shelly. My Andromeda. Goddess and ruler of my heart.
Leaning into her, I press my lips to hers. Let her warmth blanket me. Let her vibrance and zeal soothe every ounce of skepticism. Let her love consume every molecule in my body.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss. Brush the hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. Hold her blues with my greens. Then, I lay my heart in her hands.
“Shelly, will you marry me?”
THIRTY-FIVE
SHELLY
I’m sorry,what?
Every muscle in my body, head to toe, locks up. I stare back at Devlyn, unable to breathe or think or form words. I blink to moisten my dry eyes. Then do it more.
Marriage is not something I am opposed to, but it isn’t something I foresaw in the near future. I love Devlyn, but this seems… sudden. Unlike him. Questionable. Our relationship time line has flown by, one momentous occasion after another.
Is this because of Desirée?
I don’t want Devlyn to feel obligated to marry me because we have a child. That shouldn’t be why he proposes. God, please don’t let it be the reason he is proposing.
I love this man more than imaginable. His heart is limitless. He gives without second thought. And in the past fourteen months, I’ve felt and experienced so much with him. A love to rival all others. A love I never thought I’d have in my life. He has gifted me so much.
That said, I pray the reason for his proposal is love and not obligation.
“Uh…” I tap my toes on the floor. Pin my lips between my teeth as I study the seriousness in his gaze. Tightness forms between my brows as my eyes narrow.
Why does this feel so weird? Me wanting to ask him the reason why he asked me to marry him. Prepregnancy Shelly wouldn’t think such preposterous things. Prepregnancy Shelly would have been in his lap already, hands on his cheeks as she kisses him senseless.
So why isn’t that me now? Why am I sitting here like he asked me to solve a quantum physics equation?
With each passing second, I watch the shimmer in his green irises fade. I witness the upward turn of his lips fall into a frown of despair.
Shit.
His eyes drop at the same time as his hands. Then his head begins to shake slowly. “I shouldn’t have…” He scoots an inch away. “What was I thinking?” he mutters, moving back farther. “Idiot,” he whispers.
Before he retreats farther, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and stop him. “No.” His eyes shoot to mine, glassy. Agony pours off him in waves. I shake my head. “Not no to the question. No, as in don’t pull away.”
Tears brim his eyes that have reddened in less than a minute. “It’s too soon.” He shakes his head. “Me asking you was impulsive. Sorry for putting you on the spot. I just thought—”
“Devlyn, stop.” I inch closer to him and press my lips to his. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you. And proposals always put someone on the spot,” I say on a laugh. “But we’ve never discussed marriage and I…” I pause as I try to gather the right words.
“You can be honest with me, Shell. Always.”
I lift a hand to his cheek and he leans into my touch. His eyes fall shut as he takes a deep breath. Then another. And it is in this singular moment that I have my answer without even asking the question. Not like I didn’t know the answer to begin with.
How could I ever think Devlyn would propose out of obligation? Nothing about us has ever been like that. Hell, he fought our relationship so hard in the beginning. Fought the inevitable with every breath we took.
“What I was going to say was I don’t want you to feel obligated to marry me because we have a child together.” I half shrug and work my lips between my teeth. “Before the words formed on my tongue, the thought tasted sour. Foolish. And I’m sorry it crossed my mind.” I shake my head and laugh. “I swear… little Desirée sucked all my sensibility away while in the womb.”
Devlyn takes my hands in his. A glimpse of a smile appears on his lips and disappears just as fast. He stares down at our hands as his fingers caress each of mine before cradling them in his. Left then right, he rocks his head on his shoulders as he sorts through what to say next.
“Desirée is not the reason I asked,” he says as his head lifts. His greens lock onto my blues and all I see is vulnerability and love and hope. “Honestly, I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to ask.” My brows pinch together as I wait for him to elaborate. “After the way my parents’ marriage played out, I didn’t want that to happen to us.” His eyes widen. “Not that we are anything like them.”
I nod and squeeze his hands. “Agreed.”
