26. Vivian #2
His eyes have never burned brighter. They pierce my heart, warming me from the inside with his love, and I don’t want to resist this any longer.
Logic and reason say this shouldn’t be happening; we shouldn’t be happening.
But as I stand here looking at this beautiful man who has bared his soul to me, I allow myself to ignore all of the rules bouncing around in my head and just go for it.
“If you miss out on this, you’ll miss out on something big. ”
I don’t want to miss out anymore.
He’s right. There’s nothing tying me here, not really.
My mom and I are still trying to navigate our tumultuous relationship, but it’s a long process.
We’ve just gone from strained to light talking; sometimes it feels like it’ll take an ice age to get back into a dynamic where we don’t constantly fight.
Claire and Raelynn are the only reasons I’ve never considered leaving before now, but my best friend was adamant when we talked that I needed to take whatever shots came my way.
She refuses to “let me tie up my bullshit with hers.” Her words, not mine.
She reminds me all the time that she’s a big girl, and that we all have to walk our own path.
And I know she’ll be furious with me if she thinks she has been a factor in me staying put.
What other people think though—that one drove home.
I’m so tired of being seen as a disappointment.
When you go from being a “high achiever” to someone who “wasted their potential,” it’s hard not to let the comments get under your skin.
My mom expressed it, Trent reinforced it for years, and even customers at the restaurant have no problem voicing their views on how they think I should live my life.
After a while, you believe what other people say.
Your brain screams that you should listen, even if you know in your heart their opinions shouldn’t matter.
So many poor decisions led me to where I am now, just kind of floating along, existing, frustrated…
and now, a chance to pursue something that feels completely, 100 percent right.
A fresh start, with a man that I am wholeheartedly in love with.
Who makes me feel safe and secure as much as he lights my soul on fire.
Who gives me orgasms as a means of reassurance, speaks words of love to me in a language I don’t understand but translates in my soul.
Who promises to be there for me no matter what, to stand with me and care for me and fight for me.
Who I don’t deserve whatsoever, but who also won’t let me go.
I can’t explain how those words I shared with Claire right after I met Michael are coming true— I’m gonna marry this man if I can .
Never in a million years did I think that would come true so fast. But nothing about our “courtship,” if you can call it that, has been in any way normal.
I feel like I met this man, he claimed me, I accepted it, and now here I am, ready to take the next illogical step.
But the craziest part is it feels so right. He feels so right. He feels like mine .
I love him. I want to be with him. But if I’ve learned anything this past year, it’s that actions have consequences. And it’s not just about me.
“I love you, baby,” I start, but before I can finish my sentence, he’s on his feet, his mouth on mine, pouring all his love into a searing kiss.
It’s fervent, it’s all consuming, and it takes every ounce of willpower to break free, breathless and panting, holding him back with my hand on his chest. “But,” I begin.
His face clouds, but he waits, raw need and impatience on his face. I’m certain he wants to swoop me up in his arms and take me to bed; it’s his favorite thing to do.
“ But ,” I say again. “I need to speak with Claire. I’m not going to do anything that will make it any harder on her and Raelynn.” I exhale slowly, needing to keep this promise. I don’t even know how to start this conversation with Claire. Tequila, maybe? Yep , that would probably be a good start.
“Of course, mi amor.” Michael bends down and lifts me up easily, cradling me to his chest just like I thought he would, and I hide my smile. “Whatever you need to do. I fly back home on Thursday. I have to let my boss know by Friday.” Shit. That’s not a lot of time. I frown.
“Michael, I’m not going to do anything drastic if I get even an inkling that it’ll be a problem for Claire,” I warn as he takes the steps two at a time without breaking a sweat. This man and his muscles…
“I know, carino,” he tells me as he gently lays me on the bed, his tone confirming that he knows I’m serious. As he picks up my wrist to plant kisses on it in that way he loves to do, he asks, almost boyishly, “But do I have your go-ahead to look for apartments?”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “Yes, baby, you can.” I’m still surprised at how he tells me he wants me in his life, then immediately does something to reinforce it.
Like how I found the dresser drawers cleared out for me and a credit card with my name on it only a few days after he “proposed.”
His responding smile lights up his entire face as he carefully begins to remove my clothing. He doesn’t say anything more, just leads me into the bathroom and runs a bath, at exactly the temperature I like, and adds Epsom salts.
When I immerse myself in the soothing lavender bubbles, he slides in behind me.
Pouring some of the Herbal Essences shampoo into his hand, the same scent he bought once he learned it was my favorite, he massages it into my scalp, causing me to groan in relief.
His hardening length makes itself known behind me, but he shushes me when I try to reach for him.
“Hush, mi amor. I’m taking care of what my wife needs right now.
” He smooths the coconut-scented conditioner into my hair, and while it works its magic, proceeds to knead the muscles on my back and shoulders.
At this point, I can’t keep my moans to myself, and Michael shifts behind me, chest muscles flexing and his very hard length pressed up against my skin.
Even through my fatigue, my body craves him.
“If you don’t cut it out, woman, I’m going to lose control,” he warns in a low tone.
“Maybe I want you to,” I whisper in a husky voice.
A growl rumbles from his chest as he rinses out the conditioner in record time, fisting my hair and turning my head to kiss the everloving hell out of me. His touch is as steady as it is passionate as he lifts us out of the tub and dries me off tenderly, still mindful of my trigger points.
As he walks us back to the bed and lays me down gently, his eyes take in every inch of my body spread open for him.
He holds himself above me, veins in his forearms popping as he braces on either side of my head.
He rests his forehead on mine, eyes closed as if savoring the moment, before pressing a soft kiss to my mouth.
My lips tingle from the close—but not quite close enough—contact, the energy between us electrifying and making all my aches and pains fade away.
“I can’t wait to marry you, mi amor. Love like ours doesn’t need to fall in a certain timeline.
It doesn’t matter if we’ve known each other for minutes, days, months, or years.
You,” kiss “are the one,” kiss “for me. Just like I’m,” kiss “the one,” kiss “for you. You know this, deep in your heart, you know it’s true.
We were always meant to be together. And it might seem fast, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you, Vivian, and proving myself worthy of your love. Eres mi vida .”