Page 108 of Gilded Saint

She pulls back. “Why is our marriage not legal now?” Her eyes widen with realization. “Oh, your name. But then, will my name change?”

I shift, repositioning us slightly on the bed.

“Are you ready to hear it all? Once I tell you, there’s no going back.” Based on what Jack said, there’s no going back anyway, but I’ll find a way, if that’s what she wants.

“The only way I go back is if you go back with me. I want this. I want us.”

“Are you sure?”

Her blue eyes blur, but she’s not the one with tears filling her eyes. It’s me. And I do not cry.

“I won’t leave you. Tell me everything.”

“You’re making a commitment here.” I exhale, as much to clear my thoughts as to dry up the emotion blurring my vision. “From here on out, it’s a commitment to be with me. If I piss you off one day, or I bore you, or you wonder how the hell you wound up with such an old guy…you’ll be stuck with me.”

“You’re not that old. What are you? Forty-two?”

“Actually…I’m thirty-nine.” She grins so wide it’s like those three years made her day. “I lied about my age in my alias, partly just to command a little extra respect for the work I was doing, and then, well, years passed.”

“I get to help you celebrate your fortieth birthday.”

“I don’t celebrate?—”

“When is your birthday? Really?”

I let out a breath, and with it, I accept that she can’t go back. If she changes her mind about us, she’ll still need to build a new life.

“My name is Sam Watson. Samuel Lee Watson. Born on January twenty-seventh.” I hold out my hand as if I’m offering to shake hers. “Nice to meet you.”

“Sam.” She says the name like she’s tasting it. I like hearing her say my real name. I like my name wrapped with her European accent. “You go by Sam?”

“Yes.”

“And do you have family?”

“Two younger sisters. One day, you’ll get to meet them. They’re both married. One is expecting her first child, so you’ll be an aunt soon.” As I say those words, it feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest. I’ve missed my family so much. It’s why I hate Willow has to miss hers, but talking about reuniting with mine brings home a wave of warmth.

“Do you have photos?”

“Not with me.” I tap her nose. “But you’ll see them soon. Once we determine it’s safe.” I wrap my arms around her, and she shifts until her chin rests on my shoulder. I know I smell, but I need this. To hold her like this while it sinks in that this is forever. The emotions have been real, but now we’re forever. She’s mine. I never have to let her go. I understand I’ll need to earn her love, work for our love, and take care of her, but I’m capable. My parents showed me what it is to work for a loving relationship. My shoulders lighten, like a weight I hadn’t known I was carrying has lifted.

“I want to meet them,” she says, her voice light, as if she too is lighter.

“You will.”

“How will you introduce me to them? I mean, what will my name be?”

“I suppose you can choose your alias, with Watson as your last name.”

She digs a digit into my ribs, and I squirm, and she laughs into my ear. “Who says this American woman took her husband’s last name?”

“I think we’re going to have to say that you’re from Europe. Maybe from Croatia.”

“Why? My English is good. I dream in English.”

“Your English is phenomenal. But you’ve got an accent.”

“So do you, Mr. Cowboy Boots.”

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