19. Chapter Nineteen
Isat in the hospital bed, cross-legged, with the tray before me.
“Rose insists that you eat ginger and chicken,” Jericho said, uncovering the dish he had the nurses heat up for me. The thick scent of the stew wafted up towards me, and I smiled.
“Our daughter is a delight,” I said, reaching out a hand to touch his as he placed the fork and spoon down.
Despite his attentiveness over the last two days, he hadn’t touched me. The little bit of contact jolted me, the way an old, beloved coat in your closet comes out for winter and touches your skin with a sense of home.
I clutched his hand with a desperation that overwhelmed me, as I pulled it to my mouth.
I saw the beautiful scar that marked him as mine, and brought his palm to my lips. He froze, staring at me with conflicted eyes, but I didn’t care. I darted out my tongue to taste his skin, moaning at the familiar salt and musk. Even the thickness of his callouses gave me comfort.
He was here. And he was mine. It was over.
“I love you,” I whispered against his skin. “I am so grateful for all you have done, and all you have given me. You’ve given me life, Jericho. You give me a reason to live.”
I bit at the pad of his thumb, then his index finger, tasting him, and feeling the longing and emptiness in my body.
“I swear I will make you happy,” I vowed. “I will be a good wife to you.”
His eyes closed, and I wondered if he found this appalling. My desperation to please him. Was it maybe a sign of weakness? I wasn’t sure.
“Don’t thank me yet, witch.” He bent down to kiss my forehead.
I wanted to move my face to let his kiss land on my lips, but I didn’t want to push him. Maybe he was afraid that I was too delicate in my recovery?
“The best has yet to come,” he said against my forehead. I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. “Things haven’t even started for you, yet.”
I grabbed the shoulders of his shirt, and pulled him in towards me. I needed him close. It was the only thing that could make me feel better. I wrapped my arm around his ribs, burying my face into his throat, and clinging on like he was a liferaft and I was adrift at sea. I sighed with relief when his arms wrapped around me too, and he squeezed me against him, until I could feel his warmth through our clothes.
A rude cough came from the doorway.
Yuliya was there;, tall and casual, standing with her shoulder against the frame, a foot crossed over the ankle. Jericho didn’t let me go. Not until I pulled away to look at his sister, swiping at my cheeks as a small tear came down.
“Yuliya,” I said, trying to smile.
She didn’t smile back. Instead she looked between me and Jericho, her head tilted with a smirk.
“I see you’re feeling better,” Yuliya said. There was a cruel mirth in her expression, as if she was taunting my husband. I didn’t know why. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it. “I just came in to tell my brother that your jet is ready for your honeymoon, whenever you’re ready to travel.”
“Honeymoon?” My heart leapt with joy. “Oh! I didn’t think we were going to have one of those!”
I looked at Jericho, feeling a smile tug at my lips. He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. But that must be from the worry. My husband was always such a worrier. Worried about me, about his sister, his daughter… there was no shortage of things for him to worry about.
“Yes, witch,” he said, his voice light. Though, even that seemed forced. “Of course we get a honeymoon.”
“Where are we going?” I brought one hand to my heart, the other clutching to Jericho’s, intertwining our fingers, wanting more things to link us together. He grounded me.
“Ireland,” Jericho said, his eyes falling to the bed. “I’m taking you home.”
I gasped, and grinned. I couldn’t help it. I hadn’t seen my home country in so long, and now that I could share it with my husband…? Oh! My life would be so complete!
“To Portstewart,” Jericho clarified, even though he didn’t need to.
“My sweet husband!” My hands flew around his neck and I hugged him close, needing him against me before my heart burst from my chest. The only thing that could contain it was him. “I’m so happy!”
Tears. Happy tears streamed down my cheeks, and I started laughing and crying all at once.
“I never thought I’d see my homeland again, and here you are… giving me so much more than I dreamed.”
My fingernails knitted into his shirt until I creased and bent it. Tearing at it so hard that I worried my fingerprints would ruin the shirt entirely.
Jericho lightly patted my back, before he relented and gave into me, placing his nose into my hair, and holding me close, as I craved.
“You are a blessing, Jericho Vasiliev,” I wept. “I cannot wait to spend my life with you.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Yuliya lift a questioning brow. Then she smiled, staring at the back of her brother’s head. “Did you hear that, isoveli?”
“Shut up, Yuliya,” Jericho said, his agitation threatening to ruin our embrace.
“You’re still going through with this, huh?” Yuliya inspected her nails, her lips pursed to one side.
“Shut up, Yuliya!”
She lifted her hands in a resigned surrender, and turned out the door. “We have Brock in a secure location,” she said casually, throwing up a two-fingered peace sign.
“Get out!” Jericho barked, finally pulling out of my tight hold. He wiped his face with his hand before his eyes came back to me.
He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, then planted a small kiss on my nose.
“I am going to go handle things, and pack you a bag. We’ll go from here straight to the jet.”
I brought my hands to my flushed cheeks, wondering if I was blushing. I felt like I was blushing!
“You don’t know what this means to me,” I gasped, as I tried to kiss him.
He dodged, placing a kiss on my temple instead. “I think I have some idea.”
He tried to pull away from me, and I reached out to hold him close. “Where are you going, love?”
He let me hold his sleeve, though he could have easily pulled away.
“I’m tending to some loose ends, and packing your things.” He kissed my lips, and I let his arm go. “I don’t see a reason to delay a honeymoon. It’s been a long time coming.”