Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
NEVAEH
Ethan’s tongue glides across my top lip and then my bottom before it delves into my mouth, stroking my own. I moan into his mouth and reach for the button on his pants, needing him to finally be inside me.
He laughs softly, pushing my hand away. “Patience, Mrs. Romero,” he chides playfully. “I told you I’d make love to you and I will, but first I want to explore every inch of my gorgeous wife’s body, starting with her mouth.”
My heart swells. Mrs. Romero. I’m no longer Nevaeh Hansen.
I am Nevaeh Romero, Ethan’s wife. My thoughts go back to twelve hours ago when I thought Ethan’s nod meant he was going to give in, only to be reminded of what I already knew, what he’s already proven: Ethan Romero will always put me first—even when I don’t feel like that’s what he’s doing at the time.
Twelve Hours Ago
Ethan devours my mouth for several seconds, efficiently taking my breath away, before he pulls back slightly and rolls onto his side.
Confused as to why he’s suddenly stopped when he’s just agreed to make love to me, I glance over at him.
His caramel eyes are smooth and shine with the perfect mixture of love and lust, and my heart flutters behind my ribcage.
Nobody has ever looked at me the way Ethan does—without even speaking or touching me, he somehow manages to make me feel wanted and cherished, like I’m his entire world.
“Ethan, what’s going on?” I ask, confused, and if I’m honest, a bit impatient.
“I’m going to make love to you, Nevaeh.” He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip. “Every day for the rest of our lives if I have it my way.” His words cause my body to freeze. Luckily, he doesn’t notice.
“Okay…”
“But first I’m going to make you my wife.
” He rolls onto his elbow. “Marry me, Angel. I’ll book us a flight to Vegas and we’ll be there in a few hours.
Make me the happiest man in the world and become my wife, and then I promise I’ll make love to you, the way it’s supposed to be, as your husband.
Every goddamn day for the rest of our lives. ”
Tears pricks my eyes. Ethan wants to marry me. He wants to be my husband…for the rest of our lives. Emotion clogs my throat. Can I do that? Can I marry him? Would that be selfish? He’s been through so much. Losing his baby, his fiancée and mom leaving… would marrying him make me a horrible person?
What if I’m honest with him? Would he understand? Would he still want to marry me? He deserves to know the truth. To go into this marriage knowing all the facts.
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.” Tears slide down my cheeks.
“What? Why not?” he asks, hurt evident in his tone.
“Because you deserve better than me.” I choke out a sob, and he sits up, pulling me into his lap so I’m straddling him.
“I deserve you, baby. What’s going on?”
“I-I haven’t been honest with you,” I admit, closing my eyes in shame at what I’ve kept from him.
“What is it? Whatever it is we’ll deal with it together.”
Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes back up and, looking him in the eyes, I tell him something nobody knows. “I’m going to die.”
His eyes widen in horror and shock, then his brows dip low in confusion. “Nevaeh, you’re going to have to give me more than that. You have my mind wandering to every worst-case scenario. We’re all going to die eventually. That’s how life works…”
“I have a Meningioma tumor. It’s why I get dizzy and lightheaded…
have frequent headaches.” I swallow the golf-ball-sized lump in my throat.
“I was diagnosed a few years ago. I fell and hit my head and my mom insisted I go to the hospital. When they ran tests, they saw it. Because I was over eighteen, I told them I didn’t want anyone, especially my mother, to know. ”
Ethan grips the curves of my hips and squeezes. “Okay, but with all the medicinal advancements, it’s curable, right?”
“At first, the doctor’s recommendation was to keep an eye on it. It was small at the time. He told me if it grows, we’ll go from there.”
“And has it?”
“Yes. When I started experiencing all the symptoms I was told to watch out for, I made an appointment. Dr. Phillips ran new scans and confirmed it. I need to have surgery.”
Ethan releases a harsh breath. “Okay, so that means it’s curable, right? They’ll go in and remove it. When?”
“I haven’t scheduled it.”
“Why?” he asks slowly.
“I haven’t even lived,” I cry. “There’s a chance I could die during the surgery.
A chance they won’t be able to get it all.
A chance I’ll need chemotherapy, radiation…
It feels like I’m finally beginning to find myself.
I’m finally starting to live, and it’s all going to be taken away.
What if through it all, I lose myself again? ”
“But if you don’t get the surgery, you’ll die,” he growls.
“I know but… I haven’t lived enough, yet, Ethan. I’m only twenty-four years old. I haven’t gotten married or had kids. I haven’t even skinny-dipped! I have so much I want to do. What if I die before I can do any of it?” Sobs rack my body, and Ethan pulls me into him for a hug.
“Your list,” he whispers. “It’s not just a bucket list. It’s literally the list of things you want to do before you die.”
I nod into his neck, sniffling back my cries. “I made it when I thought I would have more time, but then the tumor grew so fast and now I’m not going to have enough time to do everything on my list.”
“When did the doctor say you need to schedule the surgery?” he asks quietly.
“As soon as possible.”
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.
Framing my face in his hands, he looks me in the eyes. “Marry me, Nevaeh.”
“Didn’t you hear everything I said?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you.
We’ll get through this together,” he vows.
“We’ll go to Vegas and find a chapel and get married.
I’ll rent us a room and spend the next forty-eight hours making love to you.
And then, when we get back, we’ll go to your doctor together and schedule that damn surgery, so they can get that fucking tumor out of your head and everything will be fine. ”
I can’t help but smile at everything he’s saying. Ethan is a take charge kind of guy. It’s why his businesses are so successful. When he sees a problem, he focuses on how to fix it.
“What about my list?”
“What about it?” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You can finish the list after your head is fixed. Hell, after it’s fixed, I’ll help you make another list. We can spend the rest of our fucking lives checking off items on your lists.”
I snort-sob and he smiles softly. “Seriously, Nevaeh. I get it. You’re afraid you’ll die before you do all those items on your list, but if you don’t have the surgery you won’t be alive to do all the items that aren’t on the list. I need you, baby. Please.”
“Okay.” I nod, my vision blurry from my tears, and my heart full from his words. “I’ll marry you.”
After booking our flight, and Ethan explaining to his mom—without telling her about my tumor—why he wants it to be just the two of us, promising she can help me plan a wedding and reception later—we pack our luggage and take off to the airport with Rosco driving us in his SUV.
It’s a two-hour drive to the airport in Newark, and once we arrive we’re boarded almost immediately.
A five-hour flight and a cab ride later and we’re standing in the most charming little chapel on the Strip, saying our ‘I dos’ in front of the most adorable man and his wife.
When he tells Ethan to place the ring on my finger, I’m about to explain we don’t have any, but before I can, Ethan plucks a gorgeous diamond ring from his pocket and slides it onto my finger.
“When my mom left my dad, she left this ring. He didn’t want it, so I took it and put it away. I think a part of me always hoped one day she would return and I would be able to give it back to her. It also felt like she left a piece of her with me.” He smiles sadly.
“When she returned, I tried to give it back…” When I give him a confused look, he says, “Sometimes when I get home, before I come up to bed, we hang out downstairs and talk.” He shrugs sheepishly, and I smile, happy he’s giving his mom a real chance.
“She raised her left hand, showing off the new ring my dad bought her while they were in the Dominican Republic. She told me to hold onto it, and that she would love it if I would give it to the woman I want to marry. The ring was bought for her by my dad before he started making any money. He busted his ass, working two jobs, to save up the money so he could buy her a ring that conveyed how much he loved her.”
He brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses my finger with the ring. “Their love back then was untainted and pure. The day he gave it to her they had their whole lives ahead of them, and that’s what this ring symbolizes. We have our whole lives ahead of us, Angel.”
Tears leak from the corners of my lids as I absorb what he’s trying to tell me. I’m going to get through this. No, we’re going to get through this, and we’re going to have our entire lives to love each other and be together.
“I don’t have a ring for you,” I choke out.
“Actually, you do,” he says, pulling another ring out of his pocket like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat. “My dad’s ring.” He hands it to me, and I look down at it. It’s a simple silver—or maybe titanium—band, and inside is an inscription: un alma.
“It means one soul,” Ethan explains. “Yours has one as well.”
I take it off and say the words out loud, “Dos corazónes.”
“Two hearts.”
“Two hearts. One soul.”
Ethan nods. “I was shocked to learn my dad kept his ring, after all these years. Before we left, he pulled me aside and gave it to me since he also got a new one in the Dominican Republic.”