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“I feel sorry for Svena.” I think about her dull expression when she talked about battling the baby’s real father. “She’s all alone.”
Hansley doesn’t answer.
I glance up and find him grinning down at me. “What?”
“I love you so much.”
I laugh out loud. “Random.”
“You’re gracious.” He kisses me. “So kind.” Another kiss. “And far more than I deserve.”
I run my fingers through his hair as I look up at him. “What can I say? I have a good husband.”
“And I have an amazing wife.”
“Bride.” I wink. “We’re getting married again, so I’m technically your bride.”
“You’re everything.” He leans down and kisses me slowly.
I deepen the embrace and push him back so I can roll on top of him.
Hansley smirks as he settles his hands on my waist.
I lean down and whisper. “Now, how about we see if we can give my mother some grandkids?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reaches up and kisses me with all the love in the world.
And I, Asia Simone Nicholas, kiss him back with all the love in my heart.
Epilogue
One year ago
Saint Phineas Hospital
Hospice Ward
Hey, Hansley. It’s Sharon.
Of course you already know that. Or maybe you don’t since I don't know if I’ll ever give this letter to you.
I just had another round of treatments today. It feels like I’m getting worse instead of better. But I’m not scared. Knowing when I’m going to die is freeing. A lot of people walk around having no idea if today will be their last. Ha. I do. One point for me.
I’m preparing to leave you and my knucklehead brother behind and it’s a little tough because you’re both going to cry and feel sorry for me. You know how much I hate pity.
I don’t want your last memories of me to be a corpse in a casket, so I’ve decided that I’m going to do something for you both.
I’ve already got an idea of what I’ll do with Brett, but for you, Hans… it’s a little harder. You’ve already got everything—loving parents. Wealth. Female adoration (although I have no idea what they see in your gorgeous face and ripped body. I mean, come on, is a hot billionaire really that cool?)
For that reason, I’m writing this letter first.
My gift to you is my confession.
I was twelve. It was a beautiful day and I went to the park to play hopscotch with you. You were talking to a strange woman and I hung back, making sure she wasn’t a bad person trying to steal you away.
I didn’t hear what she said at first, but I did hear when she started screaming. She hurled all these horrible words at you and it scared me. It scared me so much that I ran away instead of going to you and comforting you.
I regret that day so much because you needed me and I ran. And then later, you never brought it up again and I kept quiet too because I didn’t want to embarrass you.
