Chapter 30
SELENA
I wake up in Griffin’s arms. The hospital bed is small, but somehow we fit comfortably.
He’s sound asleep, and though I am weak, I feel the first real stirrings of hunger.
I try to settle back into his embrace, but the growling of my stomach and Amelia’s vigilant vitals-check wake him.
The steady beeping of my heart monitor has become a strange sort of companion.
My shoulder still aches, but the fever has subsided and my mind is finally clear.
“You get clear liquids today,” Amelia says with a note of triumph. Griffin laughs as he stretches. “And you need to move to the chair and let your wife have some room,” she scolds him like a schoolmarm.
“Right,” Griffin says, kissing my temple before carefully extracting himself from my side.
“I like him,” I manage to rasp out. As the words leave my mouth, I feel a surge of relief. He’s here. Griffin is actually here. Not Landon. My husband.
“I’m sure you do; you married him. But I need to redress your bandages. I’ll have a recliner brought in for you, Mr. Calloway.”
“Griffin,” he corrects, his voice rough and sleepy. He looks at me, his suit wrinkled and dark circles under his eyes. “I like her, too. Maybe we can get a bigger bed? I don’t mind paying.”
“All the money on earth won’t get a bigger hospital bed. I can bring a gurney for you tonight, but until then, use the chair. Your wife is on a strict diet.”
“And what does my wife get to eat?” Griffin is suddenly in full caretaker mode.
“Chicken broth, tea, and lime Jell-O.”
Griffin winces, and I laugh. I know how much he despises the stuff, but he knows I love it.
“Ugh, how long does she have to eat that?” He speaks through visible disgust, but it sounds like a feast to me.
“Twenty-four hours. If she tolerates that, we move to soft foods.”
The nurse leaves, and it’s just the two of us. I look at him, needing to know. “What you said last night… about loving me? Was that real? Or are you just glad I’m alive?”
Silence stretches between us. I panic, thinking he’ll take it back. We are in a fake marriage, after all. We got pregnant by accident. Being shot doesn’t change the legal truth of our arrangement.
Griffin doesn't answer with words first. He gets back into the bed with me. “Fuck the nurse,” he whispers, his jaw tightening as he pulls me close. “I didn’t expect to love you. I wasn’t planning on it… not ever. Love isn’t something I thought myself capable of.”
My heart races.
“Everything I’ve built, everything I thought I wanted—none of it means anything without you.
I married you for control. I wanted the partnership, the reputation, the stability.
I wanted to keep you from the rest of the world so I could figure out what to do with you.
What I didn’t realize until you were gone for forty-eight hours—when I didn’t know if you were alive or dead—is that I’ve been in love with you since the moment you stumbled into that club.
You were starving and brave, and I fell harder than I’ve ever fallen. ”
Tears well in my eyes. “That’s not love, Griffin. That’s proximity. Desire.”
“No,” he says gently. “I’ve been lying to you. There is nothing fake about the way I feel. I know I’m still a bastard who doesn’t deserve you, but I'm an honest one now.”
I look into his eyes, searching for an ulterior motive, but all I see is a man who hasn’t slept or shaved, looking at me with total transparency.
He kisses my neck. “I want new terms. No money. No contracts. Just us. Mutual respect. Trust. Half of all I own. I won’t shut you out again. I’ll give you a husband who strives to be worthy of you, if you’ll have me until death do us part.”
I slowly nod, a warm tear sliding down my cheek. “I love you.”
“Thank God,” he whispers, and kisses me properly.
***
One week later
We take Cayden’s private jet back home. It’s strange to think that Griffin’s loft is now truly my home. He tells me every day he loves me and that our marriage is real. He’s already planning a formal reception where I can wear a "big, crazy dress" and we can reaffirm our vows.
Landon was intercepted by security after dropping me off. He’s been charged with kidnapping, aggravated assault, and attempted murder. He’s being transported to New York this week. I want to feel sorry for his mental health crisis, but I can’t. He nearly cost me my life and the life of our son.
At the loft, Griffin has hired nurses for my recovery. Beckett checks in weekly, giving me time to catch up with Scarlett. There are notes on the fridge with medication reminders and a soft, cozy blue blanket on the back of the white couch.
“Did you do all this?” I ask him.
“I want you to be happy,” he says simply.
***
One month later
We are standing on the rooftop in front of our friends and my sister, who made the trip despite being nearly due herself.
“Believe it or not,” Celeste tells me, touching my barely visible bump, “Landon's parents want him locked up for what he did. We all do. This makes me happy, Sel. I can’t wait to find out if it's a nephew or a niece.”
Griffin joins us and pulls me into an embrace. “Are you ready?”
He set this entire gender reveal up himself. He flew in my sister and invited the whole group—Beckett, Scarlett, Cayden, Marcel, Mia, and London. There’s caviar, lobster, a violin quartet, and a massive backdrop that says Boy or Girl? It is perfectly over-the-top.
“I’m excited to finally know,” I say, touching my belly.
“I’m terrified,” Griffin admits. In the three months since the hospital, we’ve been more honest with each other than I ever was with Landon.
“That’s fair,” I say, kissing his neck. “But we can do this together.”
We stand in front of the box. I secretly hope for a son—a little boy I can give all the love Griffin’s parents never gave him. Griffin pretends to want a boy but I know he wants a daughter to spoil.
Together, we pull the lid off. A stunning bouquet of blue roses floats out. A boy.
We spend the afternoon celebrating. That night, I stand in front of the mirror, noting the changes in my body. It isn't just a bump; it's our son. I’m still nauseous, but it’s getting better. I spend my days healing and reading the law books Griffin says are necessary for my future.
Griffin watches me from the bed, the lamplight making him look soft and adoring. “Come here.”
We make love slowly, sensually. We aren’t hiding behind lust or fear anymore. We are bonded.
“You are the most beautiful woman in the universe,” he whispers. Breathless and sated, we collapse into each other’s arms. Griffin puts his hand over my belly.
“I love you,” I say, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
“And I love nothing on this earth… but you.”
I know that until he meets his son, this is the absolute truth.