Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Can you forgive him?” I ask.
“Would you let me come to my half-sister’s birthday party if I didn’t?”
Her grin is so sudden, her comment so seemingly strange, that I take a second to figure out what she means. I go through it, trying to make sense of it.
Sister, birthday… Then it hits me. Mega duh. She’s talking about my and Leo’s future children as if she’s okay with it.
“How can you be such a forgiving person?” I whisper, blinking away more tears.
“Like I said, lots of thinking. Plus, I wrote lots of bad poetry. Do you know what the main questions were, Emma? The ones I kept coming back to? Did this come from a bad place? When they did this, was it to hurt me, or was that just a byproduct? And, ultimately, Will what they want hurt me?”
“You mean, will our baby get violent if his big sister doesn’t give him enough cuddles?”
Rosa laughs, smiles, then starts to cry again. I fly through the same range of emotions. We cling to each other. It’s impossible, but it’s not. It’s happening. No more running into the forest, no more crazy climbs, no more doubting, no more guilt.
I’ve got my best friend back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Leo
Rosa smiles at me across the jewelry store counter. I couldn’t have imagined this when she learned about my and Emma’s relationship a week ago when Fyodor and the Bratva were busted. We’re standing in a jewelry store on a sunny afternoon. There’s still security in vehicles outside, but the city feels far safer than usual, and Rosa is smiling.
I know it will take time for her to fully forgive me and accept the stories I invented about her mother. It will take me more than a little time to forgive myself, too, but we’re healing. Dario even told me Rosa’s been asking him about Angelica. He has truly warm memories. He’s the one who lit the candles. While he and Angelica shared their love, I was waiting for mine.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” I ask, looking down at the ring.
Rosa brushes her hair. She’s dyed the tips red. “A macabre choice,” Dario said when he saw it for the first time. Rosa laughed, and Dario grinned. Hell, it was like the old days. It was easy like it always used to be and how it will be.
“It’s amazing, Dad,” Rosa says. “She’s going to love it.”
Once I’ve paid and we’re sitting in the car together, I say, “Are you sure, Rosa? This hasn’t been easy for you. I haven’t been the best father. I haven’t been the best man. It’s happening fast.”
“That’s why I’m sure,” she says. “Because you two are so certain, and I know how seriously you take marriage vows. If Mom hadn’t… You would’ve stayed married, wouldn’t you? For me?”
“Yes,” I tell her honestly. “Some people will say it’s the right thing. It would’ve been best for you. Others would say it would tear you apart, but it’s what I would’ve done.”
“What if you’d been married and then you met Emma? What then?”
I laugh darkly. “Now you’re twisting my head up. Luckily, I’ll never have that dilemma. There’s only one Emma.”
I lead my woman up the stairs, holding her hand and hoping she can’t feel the nerves reverberating through me. This past week has been the most magical of my life. There have been so many moments, from spanking her and turning her sweet ass red for me to making tender love. Watching movies and debating what our first child’s first words will be, and simply being together in the same room, basking in love.
Rose petals cover the rooftop garden, lights shining down on it.
Emma turns, looking beautiful in her lilac dress. It’s a designer piece, something I bought for her earlier today. She still had those clinging nerves when she asked me how she looked. As if she thinks she could look bad with her curly hair framing her face, her flushed cheeks, and those kind, sexy, intelligent, beautiful eyes.
“What’s all this?” she whispers, gripping my arms.
I think she knows. She’s guessed.
There’s so much love and hope radiating from her. I can feel it, sense it almost, like pheromones. We’re always joking that our bodies are talking to each other. Our bodies are guiding us. Instincts. My seed, her womb.What if she’s pregnant? What if that’s what I can sense already?
“I debated doing this at the restaurant,” I tell her, “but then I thought, this is the best place. This is where it all started. You didn’t choose to be thrust into my world, but you faced it bravely.”
“Bravely?” she murmurs.
I touch her chin and guide her gaze to mine. We look at each other passionately. Before my Emma, I didn’t even know it was possible to look at somebody passionately.
“You’re a human being. That’s why I love you so much. Your so-called flaws are part of what makes me love you. I know you regret climbing that tree, but I see a woman who cares about her friend, who is so upset at the idea she’s betrayed her. All she can think to do is to run, even if it means putting herself in danger. That’s passion. That’s emotion. That’s why you’ll be an incredible mother because you care. That’s love, Emma. I love you so, so much.”