Page 68 of Broken Hearts

“Cole,” I let out a tired sigh. “This has nothing to do—”

He stops me, grabbing my face in his hands. “Do you love me, Evangeline?”

“You know I do. But love is not enough for a marriage to work.”

He lets go of my face and shrugs. “It seems like a pretty good start to me. A lot of marriages have worked on a lot less.”

“Did they, though?” I sigh and stand up, not able to think clearly when I look in his pleading blue eyes.

I start pacing the length of the bedroom. It’s not rational, it’s foolish, it’s absolutely bound to fail, and yet a small, eager part of me wants to jump right in.

I don’t know what to do. One part of me is screaming to run, to protect myself. But then, there’s this other part, quieter but persistent, that whispers maybe this could work. I throw him a look. He’s standing there, motionless, following me with his eyes.

I stop in my tracks, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. “This isn’t just about love. It’s about trust, compatibility, shared goals…”

He nods, his expression determined. “I know, but you were made for me. And before you ask me how I know that when we’re still so young…”

I purse my lips; he does know me very well.

“My mother was eighteen when she met my father. He was twenty-three, and they are still very much in love twenty-five years later. They knew then, and I know now. You are the love of my life, Angel. I’m willing to work on all of that. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

My mind races with a thousand thoughts, doubts, and fears. Could we really make this work? Is it worth the risk? The uncertainty is overwhelming, yet there’s a part of me that yearns to take that leap of faith.

“Let’s say we try this,” I start, my voice tentative. “What would it look like? How can we start something so… unconventional?”

His face lights up, a spark of hope in his eyes. “We take it one day at a time. We learn about each other, grow together. We prove to each other that this can be more than a crazy mistake.”

Biting my lip, I consider his words. It’s a daunting proposition, but it’s not without its appeal.

He takes a step toward me. “What if we give it a trial period? Six months. We see if we can make this marriage work, and you let the doctor look at your hand.”

“Six months?” I can work with that.

His smile is immediate and genuine. “Yes, this has to be a real effort. No half measures.”

“Okay, and at the end of it, if it’s not working, we agree to part ways amicably.”

He nods solemnly. “Agreed. And if we decide to part ways, I’ll sign the divorce papers. No arguments.”

I raise an eyebrow skeptically. “How can I trust you’ll keep your word this time?”

He meets my gaze, his eyes steady. “Because I trust our love enough for both of us. I know there won’t be a divorce.”

His confidence is both reassuring and frightening. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “Okay. Six months.”

He grins, closing the distance between us. “Let’s seal this with a kiss.”

“This is madness.”

“It wouldn’t be us if it wasn’t a bit crazy.”

He kisses me, and it feels like the kiss he gave me at the altar in the chapel in Vegas. A kiss that I finally remember.

Once we break the kiss, we are both a little dazed.

He brushes the back of his fingers against my cheek. “My wife,” he says a little wistfully.

I close my eyes, enjoying the possessiveness in his tone.

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