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His thumb strokes the back of my hand. "We've been through hell and back, haven't we?"
I turn to face him, our noses nearly touching. "Yeah, but look at us now—married and all mushy." I poke him in the ribs playfully.
"Hey," he protests with mock offense. "I'm not mushy. I'm... romantically expressive."
I burst out laughing at that—head thrown back and utterly carefree. It's a sound that echoes off the trees and fills the evening air with its melody.
"Romantically expressive?" I tease. "Who are you and what have you done with Axel Creed?"
He grins down at me, his blue eyes twinkling with love and something akin to pride. "You make me want to be a better man—one who's not afraid to be... mushy."
My heart swells at his words—words that are as much a vow as those we exchanged earlier today.
"We've got quite the story to tell," I muse aloud.
"And it's just getting started." His voice is soft but firm, full of promises yet to be kept.
I nod, my own resolve matching his. "To think I almost let you get away."
"Not a chance," he replies with that cocksure attitude that drove me wild from day one. "You're stuck with me now, Mrs. Creed."
The weight of his surname feels like an anchor, a tether to a future filled with hope and challenges we'll face together.
"I like the sound of that," I say, leaning up to press my lips to his—a kiss that seals our bond as much as any vow could.
The sun finally surrenders to twilight as Axel and I stand wrapped in each other's arms—a perfect end to a day etched in love and new beginnings.
24
AXEL
Morning light spills across the kitchen, soft and warm like the afterglow of a well-fought battle. Sasha's there, her hair a tousled dark cascade, eyes still sleepy but dancing with the same fire that saw us through the storm. She's wrapped in one of my shirts, and hell if it isn't my new favorite sight.
"Hey," I say, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. "Sleep okay?"
She hums a contented yes, flashing me a smile that reaches deep into the corners of my chest. "You?"
"Like the dead." I pull up a chair. "Considering that's how I felt after everything."
She chuckles, sipping her coffee. "That bad, huh?"
"Worse," I admit, my voice gruff with sincerity. "But you... you were something else. Brave doesn't even start to cover it."
Sasha shrugs, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I had a good reason to be brave." Her eyes lock with mine, steady and sure. "I had you."
There's something about her saying that—my name on her lips like a goddamn battle cry—that stirs a pride in me I didn't know was there.
"You think we're out of the woods?" she asks, twirling her fork in her hand.
I lean back, considering it. "With you? There is no damn woods." I grin when she laughs, that rich sound echoing off the walls.
"Such an ass," she says fondly, but there's no heat in it.
"Your ass," I correct her with a wink.
Her laughter softens into a smile that tells stories—stories of every hardship we've weathered together. It’s the kind of smile that makes you believe in better days.
"We make quite the team," she says after a moment, breaking into my thoughts.
