Page 143 of Oathbreaker

I choke on his words, the ever-ready tears starting to form at my lower lids.

“I want to believe that, H,” I say, choosing to be honest.

He hums. “I guess I’ll just have to prove that one to you over our lifetime.” He kisses the top of my head. “I don’t mind,” he says, the words still soft.

“You haven’t asked me to marry you,” I tell him, allowing the tears to track down my cheeks. “I mean, it’s stupid because we’ve known each other for barely a year. But….”

He stills for a beat, and then he rubs his face against the side of mine.

“Do you trust that I’ll keep our family safe? That you’re always safe when you’re right by my side?”

I pause, unable to speak because of the lump in my throat. “Y-yes, I do.” Because it’s true, when we’re apart, I feel exposed. Vulnerable. But when I’m with him....

It’s not healthy to be so reliant, so co-dependent on someone. And yet....

“Do you trust that I need you as much as you need me? That you’re literal oxygen in my lungs?” His hand skims lower and rests over that part of me shielding the unspoken gift we’ve been given.

“Yes, H.”

He hums again. Then he moves his hand, reaching beneath the pillow. He pulls out my used pregnancy test, holding it in front of us.

We both stare at it for a long moment. I sniff, tears falling down my face.

“Winter,” he rasps out. “I’m with you forever. You don’t have to be afraid of this—of moving forward together. It’s my mission in life to slay all your dragons. And our life will be beautiful. Our whole family will be beautiful. I did the wrong things when August was born. I know I did, and I’m so lucky to have the chance to repair things with him. To atone.”

He squeezes me slightly at the last word, inhaling slowly, then relaxing his hold as he exhales.

“I’m so lucky to be able to prove that I can do better. To prove to myself and everyone else who matters that I can be who you need me to be. Who our baby needs me to be. Who our family needs me to be.”

I sob. “I’m so scared, H.”

“I know, baby. I know it’s scary.”

“What if something bad happens?”

“What if something amazing happens?”

I curl my lips inward, sniffing back the snot commingling with my tears.

He turns me around so we face each other, still pressed close. I lose the robe. We stretch our legs in opposite directions as our pelvises touch.

It’s an intimate position. I love it.

“I can’t control the future. Neither can you. But can we commit to making each day the best it can be? Can we commit to choosing our happily ever after?”

I don’t see an ounce of fear in his gaze. Instead, I see joy, pure happiness.

He’s already in bliss at our future, and if he’s not worried—he’s not scared—maybe I can release my fear too.

“Yes, I will try my damnedest,” I say, touching his mouth with mine and peppering kisses around his face.

“That’s all you can do, baby. And I believe in you. You’ve never failed yet.”

Then he takes over, kissing me with everything he has in his body and soul. I feel his passion. I feel his love.

I feel his radiant joy.

“I had this vision of what this would look like, me proposing. I wanted my mother’s ring and to do it at the top of the Eiffel Tower, not when we’re fighting for our lives,” he whispers against my lips.

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