CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I woke to slow and steady hands running up and down the length of my bare back.
“Are you awake?” Declan rumbled, his sleep-roughened voice doing exquisite things to my insides.
“I am now,” I croaked, and rolled over, squinting up at him. “Why are we up so early?”
Declan sighed and trailed a finger down my nose to my lips. “The detective in charge of your case called this morning. He wants to speak with you as soon as possible. Preferably in person.”
I sat up, my body on instant alert. “What is it? Is it Seth? Did he escape?” I was aware of the panic in my voice, but I couldn’t seem to stop it.
It had been three months since Seth attacked me in my classroom, got shot, and was arrested.
The arrest was followed by weeks of nonstop questioning by the police, while fielding angry phone calls from Seth’s family.
Seth’s mom went from angry to begging to blaming me for her son’s erratic behavior, to the point where she even tried to convince the detectives in charge of the case that it was the divorce that triggered him, and that Seth had a psychotic break when he attacked me.
She wanted them to go with the insanity plea.
Of course, the police hadn’t believed a word that came out of her mouth.
And Seth was tried and convicted with a laundry list of charges that ranged from stalking to attempted murder, coupled with the charges that were already brought against him by Declan’s company.
It was safe to say he’d be behind bars for a very long time.
Declan took my face in his hands, fingers sweeping gently over my cheeks.
“Hey, shh. It’s okay,” he soothed. “I don’t know what he wants to talk to you about, but whatever it is, it can’t hurt you. Not while I’m around. I’ll protect you, Melodie. A chuisle mo chroí. I love you.”
And in the cradle of his palms, I melted into a puddle of goo. This wasn’t the first time he’d told me he loved me. He’d said it for the first time the night he brought me home after Seth’s failed attempt at kidnapping me, and had made it his duty to remind me every day since.
And though his words meant so much to me, I still hadn’t said them back.
I knew I loved him. I loved him so much, I hardly knew what to do with myself.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to say them back.
I did. But something inside me—fear, maybe—stopped me from uttering those three simple, yet deserving words.
And Declan was deserving. He deserved so much more than I could give him, and a part of me feared he would be settling if he stayed with me.
He deserved someone who could meet him where he was in wealth and status.
Not a kindergarten teacher with an autoimmune disease, and dreams of one day making a name for herself as a distinguished writer of romantic fiction.
Declan didn’t need dreams, he needed reality.
Someone already established and making it on their own.
Yet, the thought of giving him up, of walking away from the love and happiness I found with him, was agonizing enough to bring me to my knees.
I couldn’t give him up.
I wouldn’t.
So why couldn’t I say I loved him back?
When I was younger, my mother told me that she and my dad almost gotten divorced shortly after I was born.
The stress of a newborn baby in the house, combined with her postpartum depression and my dad’s increased working hours, had them fighting a lot, and they just couldn’t seem to find a middle ground.
Eventually, they decided on marriage counseling before resorting to divorce, and one of the things she learned throughout therapy was that love was a verb.
It was in the way your partner talked to you, how they looked at you, and the things they did just to make your life a little easier.
It was my dad cooking breakfast for her before he left for work in the mornings.
It was him taking over my nighttime feedings so that Mom could get a few more hours of rest. It was taking on extra work hours so that Mom didn’t have to go back to work right away, and him spending the weekends deep-cleaning the house, so Mom wouldn’t exhaust herself doing too much while she was taking care of me during the day.
Love was action.
And while I hadn’t yet said the words, it was in everything I did for Declan, because I saw it in the things he did for me.
It was in every second we spent together, in every time we held or spoke to each other.
It was in our quiet nights and our busy mornings.
It was in our Saturday night movie marathons and Sunday evening drives.
It was in the tiny love notes I left for him around the apartment, and the warm smiles he’d give me whenever he found them.
It was in the big things and the little things.
It was in the way I’d text him at random intervals throughout the day to let him know that I was thinking about him, and in the careful way he massaged and bandaged my ankles whenever my rheumatism flared up.
It was in the way I prayed to God every day, thanking him for sending me this wonderful man, silently vowing to love and cherish him for the rest of my life.
And I would cherish him. Every day until my dying breath.
So, in retrospect, those three words were nothing.
I took his face in my hands and kissed him deeply, passionately, so wildly and intensely that he would never doubt how I truly felt about him.
Dragging my lips away from his, I took a breath, kissing one corner of his mouth and then the other, the tip of his nose, then his forehead and eyelids.
“I love you, Declan McKenna,” I whispered softly—intimately, and with my whole heart.
“I love you more than life itself, and every day I fall more and more in love with how wonderful you are. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I thank God every day for sending you to me. You are honest and kind, and generous and brave. Everything I could ever hope for in a life partner. And I hope I bring you the same kind of peace and overwhelming joy that you bring me every day.”
Tears trickled down his handsome face, and it struck me that this was the first time I’d seen him cry.
“Do you mean it?” he croaked.
I nodded, swiping away his tears and kissing his eyelids again. “I do.”
“Marry me.”
Stunned, I jerked back to look him in the eyes.
“What?” I rasped.
“Marry me,” he repeated, softer this time.
“Melodie, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you were one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The first time we kissed, I felt our souls connect on a cosmic level, as though our meeting was ordained by a higher power. I believe fate has brought you to me, and I have no intentions of letting you go. You are smart and funny, and my heart races with excitement every time I catch a glimpse of you around the house, just… existing. I can’t breathe when you’re not near, and my heart aches when I’m away from you for longer than a few hours.
Sweetheart, you’re a gift I never knew I needed.
And if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.
So, please, marry me. Because I want to continue waking up to you every day, from now until we’re old and decrepit, and chasing kids off of our lawn with a garden hose and my walking stick.
” Then he stretched across to his nightstand and used his thumb to unlock a small, well-concealed safe inside, pulling out a green velvet box.
“I had this custom-made the day after we met.”
I was so stunned. I could only gape at him as he opened the box, revealing a massive pear-shaped diamond ring, with tiny green gemstones—that looked so very much like the color of his eyes—surrounding the center diamond.
My mouth was hanging open for so long, I was sure I caught a few flies. I was dumbstruck.
“Like I said before,” Declan continued. “I knew the moment I met you that you were mine. And I vowed, then and there, to be anything you needed me to be, as long as I got to love and protect you for the rest of my life.” He took my left hand and slid the ring onto my finger, then smiled.
“Perfect fit. Has to be destined, right?”
I wasn’t aware I was crying until Declan swiped his thumbs under my eyes, wiping away my tears.
“I’m leaking,” I sobbed happily.
Declan chuckled, wiping away more tears. “And you’re the cutest leaky faucet I’ve ever seen.” Then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “So… what do you say? Will you be my wife?”
I nodded.
“Words, love. I ne—”
“You need my words.” I grinned up at him. “Yes, I remember.”
I opened my mouth to answer him, to tell him that I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him, when a rush of dizziness hit, and I instantly felt nauseous.
The discomfort must have shown on my face because Declan’s brows drew together in confusion, but I was on my feet and moving before he could get a word out.
I made it to the en suite just in time to drop to my knees in front of the toilet and hurl my guts out.
It was strange that I even had anything to bring up, since I hadn’t eaten much at dinner the night before.
I’d felt bloated and was unable to consume much, so Declan had maybe me peppermint tea and sent me off to bed.
I’d thought all I needed was a good night’s sleep to feel back to normal, but apparently I was wrong.
“Melodie?” Declan called, rushing into the bathroom and squatting down next to me, hoisting my hair out of his way. “Are you all right? Is it your stomach again?”
I nodded and heaved again, but thankfully nothing came up this time.
Slowly, carefully, he helped me to my feet, flushing the toilet and leading me over to the sink to wash my mouth.
“Do I need to call a doctor?” Declan asked, phone already in hand, voice thick with concern.
I shook my head, then instantly regretted it as the dizziness came back in full force. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them again—centering myself and willing the nausea to go away.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, trying to reassure him, and knowing that I was doing a piss-poor job of it.
Declan frowned, eyeing me suspiciously. “Honey, are you sure? You look a little pale.”
I touched my forehead and was surprised that it felt clammy.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Declan urged.
I waved him off, then splashed some water on my face to help cool me down.
“I’m fine,” I told him again. “I usually get like this when my period is about to sta—”. I froze, trying to think back to when my last period was. I couldn’t remember. “Declan?” I called and was surprised when my voice held steady.
“Yes, mo chroí?”
“What date is today?”
He looked momentarily confused before answering, “The twenty-third. Why?”
The twenty-third? Today was the twenty-third. Which meant, if my calculations were correct, my period should have started three weeks ago.
Ooh.
“What is it, love?” Declan asked, gently taking my face in his hands and kissing my forehead. “I promise, whatever it is, you can tell me.”
I loved that. I loved how he switched between his native mo chroí to just calling me his love.
“I’m late,” I said, and my voice actually wobbled that time.
Declan’s face got that confused look again. “Late? Late for wha—” His eyes grew wide with realization, and he grabbed hold of my hands, possibly to steady himself. “Late as in… you’re pregnant?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I mean… I’d have to take a test to be sure, but I think so.”
Declan’s face broke out into a huge grin, and he grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me in the air, spinning me around like a little kid. “Oh, my fucking God. A baby!”
“Put me down, caveman,” I ordered between bouts of laughter.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said and lowered me to the ground, still smiling, before cupping my face and dragging me in for a deep kiss. He broke the kiss with a gasp, thumbs stroking back and forth across my cheeks. “You’re having my baby.”
In that moment, I was so incredibly happy about the possibility. I wanted nothing more than to be pregnant. I wanted to be carrying the baby of the man I loved. So I needed to verify.
“Let’s take a test first to be sure before we start celebrating,” I said, nudging him toward the bathroom door.
“Way ahead of you,” he cheerfully stated, and quickly tapped away at his phone screen before bringing it to his ear.
A second later, there was a female voice on the line, and Declan said, “Hey, Cass, hey. Listen, I need you to go to the drug store and get me a bunch of pregnancy tests. I’m talking variety.
From the really cheap ones that only show you the two strips, to the ones that light up and have those little images dancing across the screen. ”
His phone speakers suddenly echoed with the sound of his sister’s happy squeals. Declan winced and quickly pulled the device away from his ear until the screams died down, before slowly putting it back. He listened for a moment, then his brows pulled together in confusion.
“What?” he asked his sister. “No, Cassidy, focus… She won’t need that yet… Of course, it’s Melodie. Who else would I have knocked up?… No, you can’t speak with her… Look, just get here, please?... Yes, you’re the best big sister to ever big sister… Thanks. See you soon.”
And with that, he hung up and tossed his phone onto the bed before scooping me up in his arms.
“How about we try to put another in there?” he asked, then kissed my stomach as he lowered me to the bed.
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works.”
He grinned down at me. “I don’t care how it works, as long as the end result is me inside you.”
“I can work with that,” I agreed happily, and pulled him down for a kiss.