Reid
His ring was back on her finger.
It felt like taking the first breath again after being underwater.
He pulled her hand away from where it rested on his cheek and kissed her palm.
Then he kissed her wrist.
And then he kissed her mouth.
She made a small sound against his lips.
"I love you," he said, against her mouth.
She pulled back slightly and looked at him.
"Even when I was—" He stopped, then forced himself to keep going. "Even when I was getting it catastrophically wrong. Even then." He pressed his forehead to hers. "It was never about not loving you."
"I know," she said again, softer this time.
"I love you," he said. He would never stop telling her. “And I choose you.”
This time, she kissed him.
He remembered carrying her over this threshold on their wedding day. Maya laughing against his shoulder, her ring bright on her finger.
Reid swept her up into a bridal carry now. Maya gasped, one arm going around his neck. Reid gazed down at her, his wonderful wife.
He had thought that he understood on their wedding day what it meant to bring his wife home.
He had not understood anything. If he had understood, he would never have betrayed her. He understood now. He understood how to be the husband she had always deserved.
Reid carried her across the threshold. She laughed and clung to him as he kicked the door closed behind them. He strode through the hall, past the rooms she had made into a home, with the warm, solid weight of her in his arms once again.
Her ring was back on her finger. She was home.
He set her down in their bedroom and kept his hands at her waist.
He wanted to make love to his wife. He wanted to give her himself, body and soul.
Maya reached for the first button of his shirt. And then they were undressing each other, fumbling and laughing at themselves.
He had undressed this woman a hundred times. He knew her body as well as his own. But right now, it felt brand new.
"You're staring at me," she said.
"I know."
"Reid."
He pressed his mouth to her shoulder. Her throat. The soft place below her ear and listened to her breath catch.
"I missed you," he said, into her skin. "Every day."
Her hands were in his hair.
"Every night," he said.
"I know," she said, her voice rough now. "Me too."
He kissed her again and she kissed him back and he took her to bed.
"Tell me again," she said.
He knew what she meant.
"I choose you," he said, and watched her believe him.
He pressed his mouth to her collarbone. Her sternum. The soft curve of her belly. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he moved lower.
"Reid—"
"I've got you," he said. The same words he had said before, when she had been calling it practice. When she had been keeping her distance.
There was no distance now.
He had no reason to rush. He had no reason ever to rush again. He had the rest of his life and he intended to use all of it.
She came apart under his mouth, her thighs around his ears, his name on her lips.
He kissed her there, gently, even as she shuddered in the aftermath.
When Maya at last reached for him and pulled him up, he went where she directed, settling his weight over her. Her hair was spread across their pillow. His ring was on her finger.
Maya’s legs slid around his hips.
“I love you,” he told her again.
Her hand moved between them. She wrapped her palm around him and he couldn’t stop the jerk of his hips. She smiled against his mouth, positioning him where she wanted him. His breath left him in a harsh rush. He would give this woman anything.
She was beautiful. She was amazing. She was everything—
Pushing inside her felt like slipping into eternity. He held still for a moment, his forehead against hers, catching his breath.
She looked up at him, this incredible woman who loved him despite everything. He kept his eyes open. He needed to see her.
She loved him.
And he had almost lost her.
Never again.
He began to move. He couldn't describe it. He had no language for it.
He dipped his head and kissed her.
"I choose you," he said against her mouth.
She made a sound that wasn't words.
He said it again.
And again.
They moved together, until her breath was breaking again, catching in small sounds. His mouth found her throat.
"I love you," he said against her skin. "I love you and I choose you."
Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails pressing into his skin.
"Reid," she said. “Please.”
He found her with his fingers, touching her exactly the way he knew she liked.
“Oh God.” Her hips lifted helplessly into his hand. “Reid.”
“I’ve got you,” he said again.
And he did. He always would.
She came apart beneath him, her body pulling tight around his. Her arms locked around him and only then did he lose himself in her.
He lay on his back with his wife’s warm body in his arms, her head on his chest, her hand resting over his heart. Her wedding ring against his skin.
He felt it there with every breath.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m yours,” he said quietly.
Her hand was soft against his chest.
“I’m yours, too,” she told him.
Reid closed his eyes.
In a minute, he would get up. He would bring her water and a warm flannel. He would take care of her the way he always had, the way he had missed doing, the way he would be grateful to do for the rest of his life.
But for now, he held her.