Page 14 of His

I take her hand from her lap, wrap it in my palm. Electricity shoots up my arms. I stare at this hand that I love so much. I turn it over, stroke the back with my thumb. I don’t want to let it go. And I never will again.

Mine.

With a knot in my throat, I ask, “Did you read my letters?”

“Yes,” she says, her voice cracking.

“Sabine, I need to make sure you know that I meant every word of them.”

“I do. And as much as I hate to admit it, I believe you.” Tears fill her eyes. “It’s been so hard Astor. I need you to know that.”

With my other hand I grip my whiskey glass, having to physically restrain myself from wrapping my arms around her. That’s not what Sabine needs right now. She needs to talk, to get it out.

“I understand that you told Carlos you would trade me for your wife before we fell in love—I get that. And I truly do understand why you lied to me and didn’t tell me that you and Valerie had a past. Things happened so fast between us. I get it.”

A wave of relief washes over me. I squeeze her hand.

Tears spill down her cheeks and her chin begins to quiver. “And when you put the gun to your head and were prepared to give your life for mine . . .” She begins sobbing. I try to pull her to me, but she swats away my advance. “No, Astor. I need to get this out. When you did that, I knew there was no going back. That I would love you forever. That you were my soulmate. That this was it. Whether I would have you for the rest of my life, or not, you were—you are—my one true love.” Her tears increase, shattering my already broken heart. “And then when I woke up bleeding out on the concrete floor and you were gone . . . I can’t explain the betrayal I felt. You’d left me. You left me, Astor.”

“I didn’t know, Sabine,” my words come out in a breathy whisper as tears fill my eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

“I know, I know. Hell, I thought I was dead too. But it doesn’t take away the intensity I felt in that moment when you weren’t there. It was horrific, dragging myself across the floor while bleeding.”

Unable to take it a second longer, I stand, pulling her off the chair and into my chest. “Please.” I inhale her hair. “Just let me hug you, please.”

She fists my t-shirt. “I’m so terrified I’m going to feel that again,” she cries into my chest. “That you’re going to hurt me again like you did that day. I love you more than I can express and I am so scared that if I give into you again—that if I give you my heart again—that I am going to metaphorically wake up on the floor one day and you’re not going to be there—again.”

Tears roll down my cheeks. “I promise you, Sabine.” I gently tilt her face up to mine. “I promise you with all my heart that’s never going to happen again.”

“Astor, you're married.”

I growl with pained frustration. “I’m filing for divorce; it’s complicated. But I know—I know. It’s impossibly complicated and I don’t know how to navigate that piece yet, but what I do know is that I have to have you. You are mine, my beautiful butterfly. You are my true love and we have to be together.”

“It’s impossible.”

“No. It’s not.” I pull her closer, desperation squeezing my chest. “Please don’t make me leave. Be with me. Let me stay with you tonight, please. I’m begging you. I’m begging you, Sabine. Don’t let me go.”

Ten

Sabine

His lips are on mine the moment we reach my front door. Desperate, hungry kisses, the intensity sucking the air out of my lungs. My body is trembling so badly that I can’t insert the key into the lock.

“Get back.”

Astor slams his boot into the door, sending it popping on its hinges. We crash into each other again, teeth gnashing, clothes flying. At once, everything comes back in one heady, dizzying rush. I remember the power this man has over me, his ability to obliterate all rational thought. His ability to consume me and become the center of my world with a single kiss.

Together, Astor and I are like two tornadoes colliding into one massive twister, this pulse-pounding, earth-shaking, mind-blowing feeling of being so connected to another human being. A jarring sense that despite everything that’s crumbling around us, it is right.

We are right.

“I love you,” he mutters against my lips, tossing my bra behind us.

“I love you, I love you, I love you . . .”

In nothing but our underwear, Astor palms between my legs as he backs me toward the wall. “My God, baby, you are soaking wet for me. Fuck, Sabine, I missed you so bad. Never again, never again . . .”

We don’t even make it to the bedroom, or hell, the couch.

---