Laya
LAYA
I nuzzle his bare chest, naked after he tossed my tattered wedding dress onto the floor.
Breathing in his familiar scent, I relax into him. His thick arms band around me like he’s scared I will leave him. How could I? How could I ever leave these arms again?
“What are you thinking, baby girl?”
He strokes over my hair, caressing my heart with his gentle touch. Such a contrast from his bulky exterior and hardened features.
“I’m wondering how I’m ever going to leave your arms again,” I whisper, my voice still sore from his cock and my screams. He stills, so I lift my head to face him.
“Why the fuck would you want to leave me?” He lifts an eyebrow, and I giggle at the sincerity on his face.
I bite on my lip, contemplating my words before delivering them with the honesty he deserves. “I just meant, I don’t know how I’m going to breathe without you by my side, Owen. I spent forever longing for you. When I had you, you didn’t just break my heart, you broke every part of me, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to survive that again.”
His heated stare makes me swallow hard, and the vein on his temple pulsates.
“You’re mine.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the wedding band on my finger. “My wife. You’re not going anywhere without me, and I’m not going anywhere either.” My heart swims like a love-struck teenager’s.
“You work away a lot.”
“Not anymore,” he grinds out with confidence. “You really think after years of being without you, I’m going to let you leave my side again? Not a fucking prayer.” He sighs. “I just need you to know, whatever you’re feeling, , I’m feeling too.” He chuckles, but it lacks humor. “I’m feeling too.” He repeats, and my heart skips at the thought of his past hurt. “To know you did everything without me the first time around. I have to live with that, . But this time, baby girl, this time, it’s for keeps. I won’t break your heart again, I promise.”
He leans forward and kisses my forehead, and I relax against him. My gaze roams over his thick arm as he positions it beneath the pillow his head rests on. “I hadn’t had sex since our last time together.” His eyes dart down toward mine, and my mouth falls open, then he laughs, his eyes crinkling.
“That’s …”
“Years. I know. Trust me, I know.” He lifts an eyebrow, and I narrow my eyes.
“Why?”
“Because the only woman I wanted was you. If I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want anyone.”
His words swim in my mind. “But you knew I was”—I grimace as I say it—“married.”
He swallows thickly. “I did. But I told myself it was punishment for letting you go.” When his eyes come back to mine, I see the hurt in them, and I hate it. I hate it and understand it. Both of us have been living a lie, pretending to live a life of happiness when our hearts belonged to the unattainable.
“I think you should shower, baby girl. Romeo will be due for a feeding soon, right?”
The fact he knows our son’s routine already is a testament to his commitment. When I signed the adoption papers alongside our wedding certificate today, I was flooded with guilt, but knowing how Owen feels for Romeo leaves no question in my mind that he will forever be the father he should have had. I sit up and stare down at him. “Are you going to help me?”
The hunger in his eyes gives me the answer before he even says it, and I smile with confidence. “Damn fucking right, I am. Let’s see how messy I can get you first.”