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I lean heavily against Evander and let his words sink in.
I knew Christopher was dead—
But to hear it finally confirmed.
The weight of him slowly lifts from my shoulders. It’s like a fishing hook’s been caught in my guts for years, but now it’s gone. There’s still an ugly, ragged hole where the bastard ripped into me, but I can finally start healing.
It’ll take a while to recover, and I might never be fully whole again. I’ll always have the memories. I’ll always have the nightmares.
But at least I can start moving on.
“All right then. Consider it done, asteraki mu.” He wraps an arm around my waist and his fingers dig into my hip. “It’s getting cold. Let’s go inside.”
“Wait,” I say, holding onto him. “Hold on.” I clear my throat and force myself to feel brave for once in my life. “I’ve been thinking. Christopher’s dead. The war’s over.”
“Yes, that’s true,” he says, staring at me with that intensely expressive glare. “You’re free now, aren’t you?”
“I am,” I whisper. “More than I’ve ever been before.”
“What will you do with your new freedom?” He doesn’t look away. His grip on me tightens, pulling me closer.
Neither of us speaks. I want him to tell me not to go. I want it so badly, it’s like a knife burrowing down into my heart.
But he’s not going to do it. I know he won’t—that’s not the sort of man Evander is. He tries, but he’s never open with his feelings, and if I put myself out there only to be rejected, I don’t know how I can come back from that.
I’m too fragile and raw.
“Evander—” I start, but he shakes his head.
“Wait,” he says, voice heavy with strain. “Before you say anything, I need to tell you.”
“Yes?” I whisper, heart racing, palms sweating. Please, Evander, I want to hear it, I want it so badly it kills me. I need him to say the words first, because if it’s not him then it’ll be nobody. I can’t put myself out there after Christopher, not unless I’m sure.
He brushes his knuckles across my cheek. He looks into my eyes, coming closer.Pleaselet this be it, finally it, please.
“I don’t want you to leave me.”
It’s like my heart finally swells. I feel bigger, fuller than I ever have before, though I think I might pass out from the stress. “You don’t?” I manage to say.
“Stay with me,” he says. “I can’t hold back anymore. I can’t keep trying to be strong, when I know I’m weak for you, Camille. God, I’m so fucking weak for you. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before. Stay with me. Stay my wife. Don’t go.”
I throw myself at him and crush his lips with mine. It’s awkward and aggressive but it’s all I can do. I kiss him, kiss him, taste him, because I needed to hear that. Tears roll down my cheeks and he must know I’m crying, but he holds me tight and keeps kissing me, until we finally break apart. I’m grinning like an idiot.
“I love you too,” I say. “God, it took you long enough.”
He barks a laugh and kisses me again.
My husband. My lovely, lovely husband. Opening himself, just like I want to open myself.
“I’m guessing that means you want to stay?” he whispers.
“So long as you keep treating me like your wife every night.”
“I can do that.”
“Then you have a deal.”
He wipes my tears away and his fingers grip my ass tightly. “How about we start now? I’ll wear the ring. I’ll call you mine.”
