The Rogue and His Flower (Princetown Heirs #2)

Chapter 34

DALTON

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

It’s been almost a month.

Three weeks, six days and seventeen hours have passed since the bottom fell out of Daisy’s world, our world. Almost a month since we found out we lost our baby and that our chances of conceiving a child have drastically been reduced. Daisy may have recovered from her operation, the tiny incisions on her abdomen may have stitched back together, she may have gotten the colour back in her cheeks, but she’s far from healed. And the tiny shred of hope I’d given her was destroyed the moment I suggested my idea of managing the hotel in Paris to my father who flat out refused. Despite spending the past fucking week trying to convince him, I’ve gotten nowhere, worse still, the bastard is getting suspicious, that much is painfully clear.

“Where are we going?” Daisy asks me as I drive through the twisting country roads.

Her voice is soft, and it pains me to hear the lingering sorrow within it, the shattered dreams and unspoken heartache. She’s aware of my father’s decision, and has withdrawn further from me, her hopes dashed, alongside mine.

“Sterling’s place. He’s invited us all over for dinner. Everyone will be there.”

“Everyone?”

“Ben’s got a night off from the bar,” I say, eyeing her briefly, hating how she stares out the window as the evening light draws in and darkness seeps into the sky. “Drix and Lia are coming, of course.”

She nods. “Yes, I recall him mentioning that when I spoke to him earlier in the week. Will Sterling’s dad and stepmother be there too?” she asks.

“No, they’ve gone away for the weekend. Harlow’s joining us though,” I say, my fingers flexing and tightening around the steering wheel as I try to shake off this feeling of unease. “Sterling figured it would be good for us all to catch up seeing as we haven’t managed to do that since we left for our honeymoon.”

“I’ve kept you from your friends,” she says, finally turning to face me.

I force a smile, trying to mask the turmoil bubbling inside of me. “Our friends, and no, Daisy, you haven’t kept me from anything or anyone.”

“When you’ve not been working, you’ve been stuck keeping me company,” she counters. “Can’t have been much fun for you.”

“Daisy…” I warn, hating how she sees it that way. “I don’t want to be anywhere else. You’re my wife, and my place is by your side. I–”

“Hmm,” she hums, staring back out of the window, her walls going back up.

“If you’re not feeling up to this, we can go back home,” I offer, all the other words I want to say dissolving on my tongue.

“It’s fine,” she says, shaking her head. “I could use the distraction.”

“Distraction? Don’t you think we should talk–” I begin, but she cuts me off, reaching for my thigh, and squeezing it briefly.

“What good would that do? We’ve run out of options, Dalton.”

If the warmth of her touch didn’t instantly remind me of how good it feels to have her hands on me, how I’ve longed over the past few weeks to get back to that easy affection we shared on our honeymoon, I would’ve argued back. As it is, I can barely stop myself from pulling the damn car over, hauling her into my arms and kissing the damn breath from her, to remind the both of us how good it got between us on our honeymoon, how easily she brought to life that part of me that I had suppressed for so long, that was so desperate for emotional connection.

Instead I keep fucking driving.

We haven’t been intimate since our honeymoon, and I don’t mean foreplay or sex, given she’s still healing both physically, mentally and emotionally. I just mean emotional connection. I’ve had no expectations of her, but it’s as though there’s an invisible wall keeping us apart, it’s unseen but very much real, tangible. Before Daisy I would’ve run from the kind of intimacy and connection that didn’t lead to sex and shared orgasms. But since her, it’s all I want, and I feel fucking bereft not experiencing the love she showered me with on our honeymoon. She’s hurting, but I’m hurting too, and the truth is, I don’t know how to fix us, or this situation, and I’m scared. I’m fucking terrified I’m losing her.

As we pull up at Sterling’s stately home, the warm glow of the lights spills out of the windows, the sound of laughter and chatter drifting through the crisp evening air. Daisy sits beside me, her hands fidgeting in her lap, her eyes fixed on the windshield.

“Ready?” I ask, leaning over and taking her hand briefly, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Yes,” she replies, unhooking her seat belt, opening the car door and slipping out before I can press her further.

As we make our way inside, we’re greeted by our friends. Daisy is instantly wrapped in their warm embraces, and I’m met with concerned looks and firm handshakes. Maybe I’m just as incapable of hiding my real emotions as Daisy is.

“You got a minute?” Drix asks, pulling me to one side as Lia wraps her arm around Daisy’s waist and they head over to Harlow, Sterling’s stepsister, who’s waiting in the lounge.

I watch Daisy slip into easy conversation with a gracious smile, keeping her pain underwraps. But I see her. I know her, and I don’t know how much more of this pretence I can take.

“How about a drink in the billiards room?” Sterling suggests, noticing the look passing between me and Drix. “I don’t know about either of you, but I could do with a shot, or five.” He eyes Harlow, and I see the agony in his gaze. I’m pretty sure it matches my own.

“Yeah, same,” Ben agrees, glancing at me. “Looks like you need a drink too, mate.”

“Why not?” I shrug, throwing one last look over at my wife.

“Lia, Daisy, Harlow. We’re gonna catch up for a bit. Are you good for a while on your own?” Drix asks.

“Sure,” Lia replies for the three of them as Daisy’s gaze rests briefly on mine. Her eyes flicker with something I can’t quite interpret before her attention is drawn back to Harlow who smiles at something Lia says.

As we step into the dimly lit room, the scent of aged whiskey, cigar smoke and leather envelops me, and I follow the guys to the bar in the corner of the room. Sterling lines up four cut glasses, pouring a shot of bourbon into each.

Drix and Ben take a seat on the bar stools, and I lean against the counter, picking up my drink and knocking it back in one go, welcoming the burn of the fiery liquid as it slides down my throat. It will be my one and only drink tonight given I’m driving.

“Want to get shit off your chest?” Ben asks, swiping a hand through his tousled brown curls, eyeing me. “How’s Daisy doing?”

Blowing out a breath, I feel the pain and confusion of these past few weeks settle over me. “She’s trying to be strong, but she’s struggling.”

“It’s a lot for anyone to handle,” Ben replies, reaching for me and giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Have you talked with her about it?”

I glance at Drix, feeling fucking helpless. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“She’s just trying to process. Give her time. Just keep doing what you’re doing, Dalton. Be there for her. Let her know with your actions that you’re not going to give up on her,” Drix says. “I know Daisy. She’ll get there eventually.”

“You keep telling me that, but as more time passes, the further away she seems,” I retort, loosening the top button of my shirt, feeling as though my fucking throat is constricted. “Besides, if Daisy’s inability to open up to me was my only problem, I could work with that, but it isn’t. I think my father is beginning to suspect something is up. He refused my request to manage his new hotel in Paris.”

“Paris?” Drix questions.

“I thought if I could convince my father to allow me to take over the managerial position at a new hotel he’s bought there, it would enable Daisy to start IVF treatment without him finding out. But, of course, he denied me.”

“Fuck,” Drix retorts, exhaling sharply.

“My thoughts exactly,” I reply in frustration. “I feel like a fucking failure. I’ve spent my whole life living off my father’s wealth. I’m ashamed of myself, Drix. Now I can’t even look after my wife. What kind of man am I?”

“You’ve made mistakes, Dalton,” Drix says. “But haven’t we all? What matters most is how you act from this moment on, yeah?”

I nod, gritting my teeth. “Yes.”

“So let me get this straight, in order to pay off the debt, Daisy needs to have your baby, right?” Sterling asks, his eyes catching mine.

“Yes. Marry me, have our child. Only then the debt is written off. If we can’t do that the contract is null and void, and Drix will need to go back to being the families’ enforcer, jeopardising his happiness and relationship with Lia.”

“How much is the debt?” Sterling asks, his eyes catching mine.

“Eight point five million.”

“Damn,” Ben whistles.

Sterling nods. “And if you can pay off the debt, will that solve your problem?”

“Not entirely, no. Whilst it will get Drix off the hook, I know my father, he wants an heir more than anything. If he finds out Daisy’s predicament I know he’ll want me to divorce her, and replace her with someone else. He doesn’t give a shit about my happiness or anyone else’s for that matter,” I admit, wincing at how fucking awful that sounds.

“Fucking cunt,” Drix mutters.

“Okay so I guess it all boils down to this, would you be willing to forgo your inheritance to be with Daisy?” Sterling continues.

“There’s still the not so tiny matter of the eight point five million debt,” I point out.

“Would you be willing to forgo your inheritance to be with Daisy,” Sterling repeats, eyeing me pointedly.

Could I? A few months ago I would’ve answered no. I would’ve been a selfish cunt and thought only of myself. But things have changed. I’m so fucking in love with Daisy that the thought of losing her is too painful to comprehend. We could try IVF and hope that it works, but there’s no guarantee. Ultimately she means far more to me than my inheritance, and she’s worth every fucking penny I’d lose walking away from my father to be with her.

“Yes,” I agree, knowing it to be true. I’d find a way to start over, for her, for us both. “I fucking love her, Sterling. I don’t give a shit about my inheritance.”

Ben whistles, and Drix leans over, gripping my shoulder. “Good man,” he rumbles.

“Then I think I might have a solution,” Sterling says.

“How? Your father will never loan me the money,” I say. “Roger is as callous as my father.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that at all.”

“What then?”

“My paintings,” he says, swirling around the alcohol in his glass as he eyes me.

“Your paintings?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, people want to buy them, they have bought them. I’ve already got a tidy sum of money from sales over the past few years, and I have several more paintings that I could sell.”

“How much money?” Ben asks.

“Currently about five million.”

“Five fucking million?! You’ve kept that quiet! Who are you, Banksy 2.0?” Ben retorts, eyes wide as he looks across at Sterling who just shrugs.

“I can loan you the money, Dalton. I can get you the rest with the paintings I’ve got in my studio. It’s yours if you want it.”

“You’re serious?” I ask, completely taken aback to be honest.

I know my friends come from wealthy families, but like me, I’d assumed their wealth was tied up in trust funds they couldn’t touch until whatever age their father’s deemed appropriate, or they’d need to jump through hoops like my bastard father set out for me. Looks like Sterling has been doing his best to get out from beneath his father’s grasp, and I admire him for it. I fucking wish I’d had the foresight to do the same, but the old me was too selfish and too fucking lazy to strive my own path.

“Never more serious in my life. I was saving the money to get the fuck out of here and start a new life, well away from my arsehole father–”

“Then I can’t take your money, not if it’s going to give you the ability to be free of him,” I say, shaking my head.

“Things have changed,” he says. “I’m not in any hurry to leave right now.”

“Let me think about it,” I mutter, scraping a hand over my face.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate his offer, because I really fucking do, but it’s more than a little emasculating having to take a loan from one of my best mates. Then again, I’m willing to swallow my pride for the woman I love, and prove to her that I can be the man she needs so long as she gives me the opportunity to do so.

“Sure,” Sterling replies with a nod.

“I’m guessing you’re not in a hurry to leave because of a leggy blonde with a cracking pair of lungs, who happens to be your stepsister” Ben asks, smirking.

“Yeah, Harlow,” Sterling agrees, reaching for his glass and downing his shot, before reaching for the bottle to pour another. “She’s driving me crazy.”

“You should probably keep it to just one shot,” Ben warns. “Nothing good ever happens when you get pissed.”

“It helps numb shit,” Sterling mumbles, the liquid spilling into his glass.

“Numb shit?” Drix asks, giving him a concerned look.

Sterling blows out a breath. “You all know about my condition,” he says, looking at us in turn.

“Yeah,” Ben replies. “Not in a good place?”

Sterling shakes his head. “Harlow has no idea how her singing affects me. How every time I hear her beautiful voice I’m bombarded with fucking colour, and this insane, unquenchable need to paint. I’ve got fifteen fucking paintings in my studio, all of them are of her. I’ve barely slept these past couple months since she came to live here. I’m exhausted, wired, enchanted, inspired, and I can’t…” His voice trails off as he picks up his shot and downs it.

“You can't do what?” I press.

“I can’t function properly. It’s overwhelming. She’s overwhelming,” he admits. “When I’m not painting her, I’m thinking about all the ways I’d like to fuck my stepsister. I’ve thought about leaving, taking my money and running, but I can’t leave, and I can’t pursue her either. It’s eating me up inside. I need to stay to figure this shit out one way or the other.”

“Damn,” Ben mutters. “There’s me thinking I was the one with all the issues wanting a woman I can’t have.”

Sterling eyes him. “At least the woman you want isn’t family.”

“Yeah, but she is married to the biggest fucking prick, and we all know that cunt will never let her go… Well, at least not permanently, anyway.”

“But temporarily?” I ask.

Ben meets my gaze, and anger blazes within them. “We drew up an agreement last week. She’ll be mine for one month.”

“When?” Drix asks, frowning.

“April. He’s away on business the entire time. I’ll get my chance then. That’s partly why I can’t help out with your situation, Dalton. I’m planning on taking Elodie with me to Los Angeles with the band whilst we’re in talks with a couple of record labels. Get away for a bit. I’ve sunk most of my savings into getting alone time with her.”

“Ben, I get it,” I say. “You don’t owe me anything. Least of all an explanation.”

“Mate, that’s fucked up,” Drix says. “You can’t just buy her time, or her for that matter. What you’re doing isn’t right. She’ll hate you for it.”

“You don’t have to tell me that because I fucking know, alright?” He counters angrily. “But I’ve got to try. There’s no one else for me, Drix. I expect you of all people to understand that.”

“This won’t end well,” Drix warns him.

“I know that too,” Ben agrees, sighing heavily. “I’ve got one month to place a wedge between them, and to get her back.”

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing,” I point out. “We all know what her husband is like. He’s got a lot of connections, many of them with people you don’t want to fuck with.”

“He’s a fool. I can handle him,” Ben snaps. “And as for his connections, I’m not concerned, I have them too. If it comes down to it, I’m not afraid to call in some favours.”

None of us try to persuade him to not go through with this. Firstly, Ben is stubborn, and secondly, Ben has power of his own. Like our own families, the Pike’s have a sordid history of underhand dealings and criminal activity. Ben’s dad, Walter, might’ve stepped away from that life just like our own fathers’ have, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still have the ability to fall back into that world should the need arise.

“So, have you told Harlow about your synesthesia? Does she know what hearing her sing does to you?” I ask, changing the subject. “Maybe she’ll refrain from singing around you if she knew.”

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t want her to think I’m a freak, that I’m obsessed with her.”

Ben lifts his brows. “Firstly, you’re not a freak. You’re a fucking talented artist, the five million pounds you have in your bank says as much–”

“Tell that to my father. You know how he feels about my art,” Sterling throws back. “He couldn’t give a fuck about how much I’ve earned from selling my paintings. The Blade’s are born to be businessmen, not artists.”

“Point taken,” Ben concedes. “The obsession part, however…” A smile pulls up Ben’s lips that only seems to wind-up Sterling more.

“Oh, fuck off, Ben. You’re one to talk,” he grumbles.

“Hey, dinner is ready,” Harlow says, her appearance making Sterling stiffen and the rest of us turn to face her.

She stands in the doorway, her long blonde hair piled up on her head in a messy bun, her gaze flicking between us as she waits. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sterling straighten his spine, gathering himself to face her. Fuck, I feel for him.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Sterling mumbles, barely able to look at her.

“Okay.” She nods, her gaze lingering on Sterling for a few moments before she smiles at the rest of us, then she turns on her heel and leaves.

Sterling blows out a ragged breath. “So, do you want the money, Dalton?” he asks.

Making a decision, I nod. “I’ll pay you back. Every last penny,” I promise.

“I know you will,” Sterling replies with a dip of his head.

“This isn’t just on you, Dalton,” Drix says. “It’s on me too. I’ll help. And if you need a place to stay then you have my flat above the gym. It’s yours if you want it.”

We exchange a look, and for the first time in weeks I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel. “Thank you, that means everything.”

“That was delicious,” Drix says, leaning back in his seat as he throws an arm over the back of Lia’s chair who is sitting beside him.

Daisy hums in agreement, despite barely touching her food. I don’t comment, because now is not the time, but if she thinks she can stop taking care of herself and I’m not going to pull her up on it, she can think again. The minute we’re alone together we’re going to have a talk about that, about a lot of things, actually.

“Yes, thank you for having us,” Lia adds. “This was all so delicious. Please pass on our thanks to your chef.”

“Of course,” Sterling replies, shifting awkwardly in his seat as Harlow reaches for her glass of wine.

“So are you settling in okay?” Lia asks Harlow, her gaze flicking between the two.

Fuck knows how Sterling has managed to keep his hands off her, I can sense the sexual tension between them from across the table, and I would bet my father’s fortune that she feels it too given the slight flush to her cheeks, and the pointed way she ignores his presence beside her.

“Everyone has been very welcoming,” she replies softly.

“Well, we’re all happy to have you here, aren’t we Sterling,” Ben adds, his eyes twinkling.

Sterling throws him a look that could kill, and Ben just tips his head with a wink.

“So what now? A game of billiards?” Ben suggests.

“I’d really love to hear Harlow sing,” Daisy murmurs softly. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sterling cuts in as he moves to stand. “I’ll go and set up a game.”

Harlow frowns, a hurt expression on her face at his dismissal.

“Personally, I would love to hear you sing again,” Lia adds, clearly confused by Sterling’s urgent need to leave the room. “Daisy’s right, you have an incredible voice.”

“I don’t know…” Harlow hesitates, glancing at Sterling who looks like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide, a terrified expression on his face that he quickly irons out with a tense smile.

“Yeah, maybe not tonight, eh?” Drix says, sensing Sterling’s unease.

“Please, I’d really like it if you could sing for us,” Daisy comments, looking at her brother as though he’s grown another head.

I don’t know if Harlow senses Daisy’s sadness as much as the rest of us, but she nods in acquiescence. “Okay, sure. The parlour has a piano…” she replies, pushing back her chair and standing.

“You play the piano too?” Lia asks, clearly impressed. “Wow, I’ve always wanted to learn how to play a musical instrument.”

“You still can,” Drix says, supportively.

“I could teach you,” Harlow offers.

“Really? That would be wonderful!” Lia exclaims, her eyes lighting with happiness.

“I guess we’re listening to you sing then,” Sterling mumbles as he throws me a pained look, and we all follow Harlow into the parlour.

Each of us settle on the large sectional that’s big enough to comfortably seat twenty, let alone the six of us. Harlow pulls out the stool beneath the baby grand piano, and settles herself onto the seat. Silence descends as her fingers hover over the keys and I catch her briefly looking over at Sterling, her smooth, honeyed voice following shortly after as she begins to play the opening verse of Someone You Loved.

I steal glances at Sterling and notice a mix of emotions flickering across his face as she sings—longing, regret, desire, it all plays out in time to the melody. Recognising the turmoil he’s going though, I know that he is unequivocably fucked. Next to me, Daisy’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, as captivated by her voice as Lia appears to be.

“Wow,” Lia whispers, leaning into Drix’s arms as he hauls her into his side and she wraps her arm around his waist.

Daisy shudders next to me and I automatically reach for her, my hand resting over hers. She doesn’t lean into my side like Lia does Drix, she simply remains focused on Harlow, and I can’t help but feel the pain of her snub. It lances through me, gutting me in a way I never thought possible. Despite that, I continue to hold on. She’s pushing me away because she thinks there’s no future for us, but there is, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let her give up on us.

“Damn,” Ben mutters, as affected as the rest of us by the raw emotion in Harlow’s performance.

Tension crackles in the air as Sterling stares at Harlow intently, completely and utterly entranced. I notice how his fingers curl into the arm rest, knuckles white, his face paling as he’s drawn in by the beauty of her voice, and I can’t help but wonder what he sees when he hears her sing. He tried to explain to me once, and I still find it difficult to wrap my head around. All I know is that he translates what he sees when he hears music or someone singing into a masterpiece on canvas. Right now he looks like he’s on the verge of running away from the torment. After the final note dissipates, there is a brief moment of stillness before Lia starts applauding.

“You’re amazing!” she exclaims, jumping up from the couch and rushing towards Harlow, pulling her in for a hug as the rest of us murmur our agreement.

“Thank you,” Harlow says softly, her eyes flicking to Sterling who remains frozen in his seat.

"I… I need some air," he manages to rasp, before getting up on his feet and striding from the room, ending the evening with his disappearance.

Half an hour later, after saying our goodbyes, we’re pulling up to Highwood Manor. I put the car in park, but don’t unlock the doors, needing to speak with Daisy to tell her about Sterling’s offer and my decision to walk away from my inheritance. She reaches for the handle, ready to bolt, but when she realises it’s locked she turns to face me.

“The door’s locked.”

“It is,” I agree, unclipping my seatbelt and shifting in my seat to face her.

“Well, aren’t you going to unlock it?” she asks.

“No.”

“Dalton. Let me out.”

“There are a few things I want to say first,” I counter, determined to make her listen. “And if I have to lock you in this damn car in order to do that, I will.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Regardless, we’re going to.”

“Dalton, please,” she whispers, and I hate the way she presses her back against the car door as though trying to put as much space between us as possible.

“I know you’re hurting, Daisy–”

“I’m dealing with it,” she insists, lifting her chin in a feeble attempt to prove that she is.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re not dealing with it, you’re pushing me away, and it’s killing me, Daisy.”

“What do you want from me?” she asks with a sigh.

“I want to get back to how we were on our honeymoon. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to see a genuine smile on your face. At this rate I’d take your snark and your anger just to get any kind of emotion instead of unhappiness from you,” I say, scraping my hand through my hair in frustration.

“I don’t feel much like smiling and, frankly, I don’t have any energy to be mad. So you’re shit out of luck.”

“And I hate that. I hate that you’re so unhappy, and I haven’t been able to do a damn thing about it, until now.”

“What do you mean until now?” she whispers.

“Sterling is going to loan us the money to pay off the debt, releasing you from your obligations.”

“My obligations?” She stiffens, going deadly quiet before she turns to face me. In a split second her apathy is replaced with a blazing kind of anger that hits me like a slap around the face. “You mean having a baby together? Is that what you mean by obligations?!”

“No! Fuck, no, Daisy!” I reply, shaking my head and cursing my stupid fucking mouth. “I just meant there would be no pressure anymore. No need to lie about what’s happened, no need to do anything you don’t want to do. You’d be free of my father, Daisy. He can’t threaten to force Drix to become the enforcer once again if the debt is paid.”

“And I suppose that means you’d be free of me too, right? You’d get to divorce me with a clear conscience. You’d get to cast me aside and walk away to marry someone new, someone who could give you a child and ensure you’d keep your inheritance, is that it?” she throws back, her voice cracking as tears tip over her lashes, and fall down her cheeks.

“You really think that little of me?” I ask, shocked by her outburst, gutted by it.

“Just let me out of the damn car. Let me go.”

“No!” I shout, reaching for her, but she slaps my hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me! This has all worked out for you hasn’t it? You’ve had a taste of me now. You’ve scratched that itch, and now you get to start over whilst I have to deal with a future alone as a worthless woman incapable of having a child.”

And there it is, the truth of it. The lie she’s been telling herself. How can she think that about herself? She’s not worthless. She’s fucking everything.

“The fuck you are!” I reply, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at me. “You’re not worthless, Daisy. You’re perfect, and you’re mine. Fuck my father. Fuck the contract. Fuck my inheritance. The only thing that matters to me is you.”

“But–”

“I’m your husband. I made a vow to support you through sickness and health, and I’m going to do that.”

“But you don’t have to now,” she says quietly, her anger disappearing beneath her despair as her voice catches. “I’ll help to pay Sterling back. Just don’t feel obligated to stay with me, Dalton. I can’t give you a family. You can walk away, I wouldn’t stop–”

“Don’t you dare say that to me, Daisy!” I seethe, frustration making me angry now too. “I’m not going anywhere. I will not abandon you, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. You. Are. Not. Alone. I’m right here,” I remind her, gripping her hand and pressing it against my chest so she can feel how my heart beats only for her. The woman I love.

“But–”

“You told me you loved me. Was that a lie?” I ask, cutting her off before she’s able to sabotage this conversation further.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she says, barely able to look at me.

“Of course it fucking matters. Do you love me, Daisy?”

“What difference would it make?”

“Daisy, do you love me or not?” I ask, my heart thumping so hard that I feel it pound against my ribcage violently.

“Yes, of course I love you,” she whispers, her lips trembling.

A flood of intense relief pummels my body, and I do the only thing I can in the moment, I lean over and pull her into my arms, kissing her with the kind of passion that is born from a desperate need to show her how much I fucking love her too.