Chapter 29
Curled up on my lap on the couch, Ani is still trembling in my arms with her face buried in my chest like she’s trying to disappear. Our fight is still buzzing under my skin, but I’m not angry, not when I know every word she threw at me came from a place of fear, not hate.
I press my lips to her hairline, breathing in the faint mix of her shampoo and sweat, holding her tight. Tight enough that maybe she’ll feel the truth I haven’t yet found the right words —or time—for.
She sniffles against me. “I don’t… I don’t even know why I said those things.”
“Because you’re scared,” I answer softly. Nothing in my tone but the flat honesty I can give her.
Her shoulders hitch. “You came home smelling like someone else, Nik. What was I supposed to think—”
I grip the back of her head, firmly but gently fisting her hair, and forcing her to look up at me. Her eyes are red, lashes damp with tears, but fuck, she’s beautiful even like this. Especially like this. “Listen to me. I would never put my hands on another woman. Not now. Not ever.”
She swallows hard, her lower lip quivering.
“I mean it, Ani. You never have to doubt that.”
Her eyes search mine, like she desperately wants to believe me but is afraid of being wronged. And I get it. I’ve given her a thousand reasons to mistrust me since the day we were shoved together. But not this. I’ve never given her a reason to doubt us.
I soften my grip, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “You think I’m capable of a lot of shit. And maybe I am. Fuck, I know I am. But not that. Never that.”
Her breath sputters, the last ounce of fight draining from her as she buries her face against my neck in exhaustion. I exhale slowly, unable to deny this gnawing feeling to hold her close and take care of her.
“Come on.” I pull her tighter, scooping her into my arms as I stand before she can protest. She lets out a tiny, surprised gasp, instinctively wrapping her arms around my neck.
Her weight is nothing as I carry her to the bedroom and lay her gently on the bed.
Her reddened eyes track me while I toe off my boots and shrug out of my ruined shirt.
As I slide into bed beside her, I pull the blankets over us both and drag her against me. She snuggles into me without hesitation, rests her cheek over my heart, and I can’t help but wonder if she can feel how hard it’s still pounding.
My hand slides down her spine and finds its place at the small of her back, keeping her tucked into me. The thought of her believing even for a second that I would betray her makes my chest ache in a way I don’t know how to fucking explain.
“Nik?” Ani’s voice is small and uncertain when she breaks the silence.
“Yes, my little pet?”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” My body tenses, but before I can speak, she continues her soft whispers blowing over my chest, “Not because of you. Because of me. I don’t… I don’t know how to stop waiting for this to implode.”
I tighten my arms around her and press my lips to the top of her head. “Then don’t.”
She shifts, pushing herself onto her elbows, looking up at me with confused eyes.
“Don’t force yourself to stop doubting, or worrying, or whatever the fuck you think you’re supposed to do. Just let me prove it to you. Every day. For however long it takes.”
Her mouth parts, but no words come out.
“You don’t have to trust me all at once,” I whisper, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “But you don’t get to doubt whether I want you. Or that I will be faithful to you.”
Her breath stutters, and she drops her gaze, cheeks flushing faintly as she musters a singular word. “Okay.”
“I didn’t ask for this marriage, either,” I add quietly. “But I’m not walking away. Not from you. So quit worrying about that, at least.”
For the first time since I returned home, her lips curl into the smallest, bratty smile. “You make it sound like I’m stuck with you.”
I huff a quiet laugh, pressing my forehead to hers. “Because you fucking are.”
Her head lays back against my chest, and I settle us deeper under the blankets. Her legs tangle with mine, and her breathing evens out as exhaustion catches up with her. It can’t be more than a few minutes before she’s asleep.
I can’t say the same for myself. I stay awake, holding her and watching the faint rise and fall of her chest as the city continues beneath us.
She mumbles something indistinct in Armenian, a soft sound that might be nothing more than a dream.
I press a kiss to her knuckles and lay her hand delicately on my chest.
My thumb traces the soft, defined line of her jaw, over the small scar near her ear, then the freckle at the base of her neck with a tenderness that scares me. I love these little things that—until three weeks ago—meant nothing to me.
Three weeks. That’s all it’s been. Three fucking weeks. And somehow, she’s the only thing in this world that feels certain.
“You’ll never need to doubt me.” I brush a kiss against her hair. Knowing she’s too far into her slumber to hear me, I whisper my vow, “I can’t promise you forever… but I promise you this moment… the one after that, and every one that follows as we build a lifetime together.”
Wrapping my arms around her tiny frame and holding her against me, I suddenly don’t know if even that is enough.