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My breath leaves me in a rush. “You’ll get to do both those things soon, I promise.”
“Good. Because I also need you to understand that you don’t need to thank me. Being with you is as easy as breathing, Katerina. You’ve owned my heart for so long I’m not even sure it belongs to me anymore. It belongs to you. Every inch of it.”
I smile, feeling my chest threatening to cave in on itself as my heart swells.
“I love you, princess,” he tells me, eyes never leaving mine.
I shift forward and throw my arms around his neck, carefully not to hurt him.
“I love you too.”
All the years we’ve been apart add up to about twenty eight years. Counting the 9 years after Nate and the 18 years before I met him for the first time. Twenty seven years wasted. It only seems fair to me that we should get two or three times as long to make up for it.
Nate arrives at the hospital about two hours later. His expression is worried as he enters his father’s hospital room, but we’re quick to assure him that nothing is amiss. After a hug session in Xander’s bed, we both share a look, coming to a wordless agreement.
“Sweetie your father and I have something to tell you,” I start.
“Your mother’s going to move in with us. Actually we’ll be moving into her house. The mansion. You like the mansion, right?” Xander asks our son.
He nods. “It’s big. Lots of space to play in. I like it.”
I smile, glad that he’s at an age where things like this are still easy for him to accept.
“That’s good, buddy. And there’s one more thing. Your mother and I are in a relationship.”
He blinks, letting that sink in. “Like Daniel’s parents are in a relationship?” he finally asks.
I nod once. “Exactly like that.”
When he beams, it feels like a boulder is lifted off my chest. He tugs my hand and I crouch down so I’m eye level with him.
“So does this mean I get to call you mom?” Nate asks softly.
My eyes well up with tears, I hug him to my chest as tight as I can, “Yes, sweetie. You can call me mom. In fact, it would make me very happy if you did.”
He smiles and nods once before looking up at his dad. “Get well soon, dad. You said we were going to Paris.”
I arch an eyebrow at that. “Paris?”
“Dad said he was going to ask you an important question there. He said you love Paris.”
When I look back at Xander, he’s rolling his eyes. “I asked you to keep it a secret from her, sport.”
Our son giggles. “I’m sorry.”
My heart races as I consider exactly what important question he could possibly want to ask.
“Don’t think too much about it, princess,” Xander says. “At least not until I get down on one knee.”
I gasp softly, “Xander.”
“You’re going to say yes when I ask, right?” he prompts, uncertainty in his green eyes.
“Of course,” I say softly, feeling a shiver roll through me. “I would say yes a thousand times to a future with you, Xander.”
THE END.
