Page 87 of Fighting for Ella

Simple as that.

Having her around was being at peace, it was feeling complete, it was knowing what it felt like to find your place in the world.

Finally, he could come home to his girl, knowing that he truly had his addictions under control, that he was no threat to her, that he would never wind up inflicting on her—or any children they might have—the same kind of life his own parents had given him and his brother.

He was home for good.

Because nothing could make him leave Ella again.

Nothing.

While she knew this was the day he was supposed to come home to her, Ella also knew that his team had been called out and he hadn't texted to let her know he was back. He wanted to surprise her, because at the back of his mind was a tiny little niggling voice of doubt that kept wondering if things had changed for Ella over the past month.

Just because he had learned he didn't want to live without her didn't mean she felt the same way.

Maybe a little distance had given her a different perspective.

Especially now that she was safe and working things out with her team.

The knot of fear in his gut worsened as he knocked on the door and waited.

It might have been a month since he last saw her, the longest month of his life, but these last few moments felt like an eternity.

When she threw open the door, Ella’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at him like she’d just seen a ghost.

Good or bad?

Reading her expression was impossible, or maybe it was just his own fears and insecurities clouding his judgment.

Because when she suddenly launched herself at him, he was caught completely by surprise.

His arms automatically moved to catch her, and Ella attached herself to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, legs wrapped around his hips, clinging to him with her face pressed into the crook of his neck.

Just like that, his heart began to beat normally again.

“Are you really here?” Ella asked, her voice muffled as it pressed tighter against his skin.

“I'm really here, honey.” One of his hands palmed the back of her head, the other curled tightly around her waist, clutching her against him. Damn, he never wanted to let her go again. Miguel could quite happily stand there, just like this, holding his girl in his arms, for the rest of his life.

“I missed you so much,” Ella murmured as her tears began to wet his skin.

“Oh, honey, not more than I missed you,” he assured her. Knowing he’d inflicted pain on this beautiful, brave woman hurt, but not more than hurting her worse down the line would. He’d had to know he could handle himself before he could allow himself to fully enter Ella’s orbit.

Lifting her face, her eyes searched his. “Did you get the answers you needed?”

Holding her gaze so she knew he was being honest, so she knew she was one hundred percent safe with him, that his problems would never endanger her life or her happiness, Miguel nodded. “I got what I needed. I'm just sorry I had to hurt you in the process.” Ella had said she understood, but that was before he’d subjected her to a month’s separation. A month when she was still healing, physically and psychologically, and had needed him. He could only pray that understanding was still there.

“I don’t care about that now you're here. You did what you had to do, and I won't ever be angry with you for doing what you think is right for yourself and for me. Besides, now you're here it’s like I can breathe again,” Ella said, a smile lighting up her face as she spoke the same exact thing he’d felt when he finally had her back in his arms.

“You are my breath, honey,” he murmured, and nothing had ever been more true. Could he survive without Ella if he had to? Yes. But he wouldn't be living. Not really. Just existing.

“Make love to me, Miguel,” Ella whispered as she leaned in, her lips hovering just millimeters above his, so warm, soft, and perfect.

“We don’t have to, El. I didn't come for sex. I just came for … you.” While his body ached to be buried inside Ella’s, joined to her physically as he felt joined to her spiritually, he would be happy just to hold her in his arms, or sit beside her talking, or anything she wanted to do. So long as they were together he was happy.

“I know we don’t have to. I want to. Need to. I missed you.”

“I need you, too, honey.”

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