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Closing my hand around her blunt blade, I twist it until she lets go, and I drop both of our weapons on the hearth before I wrap my hands around her waist. Dragging her to me, I pin her to the wall beside the fireplace with my body. Her own trembles at the contact, and for all the fucking heat between us, for all the lust colouring my blood before, all I want to do is hold her.
I want to make her understand that this wasn’t ever about winning or losing. It wasn’t about me controlling her. Not really. It was a way of wearing her out enough to make her see that between us it doesn’t matter who wins.
“I wasn’t having a go, Belles. It just…it occurred to me because I was too busy eye fucking you rather than putting up a decent fight.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Her hands circle my wrists. My hands squeeze her waist before coming up to her collarbone, taking hers with them.
“It does, because you seem to think we’re on opposing teams. But we’re not—we want the same thing, precious girl.” Kissing the tip of her nose, I cup her face. “The only time you need to fight with me is when you’re beside me.”
“What was the point of this?”
“The point was for you to realise that regardless of who wins between us, together we always win. You always win with me on your side.”
“That isn’t chauvinistic muc—”
“And vice versa. I always win with you on my side.”
“And when we don’t want the same thing?”
“I married you because I want you over anything else you could ever possibly think of. So long as you want me and I want you, we want the same thing.”
“Why were you thinking about babies?” Confusion furrows her brow.
“It occurred to me.”
“As it stands…” Hands flattening to the wall behind her, she bites her lip. I feel her pulse pick up as my hands bracket her neck, my thumbs tilting her face back to mine. “I don’t want it.”
My heart fists tightly in my chest.
“You don’t want what?”
“Another baby.” Her reply is muffled by her exhale.
Silence stretches between us.
Her chin dips, and dropping my hands to her shoulders, I let her look away from me.
The light grey wood panels blur as I go through the conversation in my head again.
I want you more than anything else you could ever possibly think of.
“Am I the only thing you want now?” she asks, tilting her head back until it touches the wall. Her eyes don’t meet mine. Although there are no tears, I feel her sadness. Her disappointment. Her fear.
The reality is, though, that whilst I can’t fathom the thought of having another baby…we have so much time ahead of us. So many years. I’m not stupid or ignorant enough to say that I won’t ever change my mind.
A family was always the plan with Arabella. She was so sure of what our future would entail outside of all the plans our families already had for us. There were at least three messy, unruly children that would keep us on our toes. She couldn’t wait for it.
Do I want her more than the future she showed me?
“I want you more than anything.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I want you more than anything,” I repeat, my hands gathering her from the wall to my chest. I hug her tight, arms wrapping around her until I can feel every soft curve mould to me. “I want other things too, just as I want to give you everything you want.” Kissing the top of her head, I inhale her soft, sweet scent. “But I wouldn’t want any of those things without you. So, in the end, it’s not about them…it’s about you. Everything is about you. Because to me, you are everything.”
My vision mists over, burning with tears I’m trying so damn hard to hold back. But I’m tired, and being strong requires energy I don’t currently have.
With her arms wrapping tightly around me, tighter than ever, it finally feels like we’re together. Nothing between us. No walls. No pretences.
