Page 83 of The Secrets We Share

“Sorry.”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“I was distracted. Tell me again.”

“I asked if you were going to open your gift.”

I scrunch my eyes in confusion. But he nods down toward the table. The small box sits right in front of me. I don’t know how I missed him placing it there. My hands shake as I lift the lid off the sleek black box, revealing the thin, etched silver jewelry.

“Harkin,” I say with a gasp, my eyes growing heavy with unshed tears.

“Do you like it? It’s similar to the ones you not-so-sneakily saved on your computer. I had it made just for you.”

“It’s stunning.”

He pushes away from the table and moves around to my side. Reaching down, he grabs the delicate collar from the box and pulls a small tool from his pocket.

“I know society tells us that when you love someone and want to spend the rest of your life with them, you should drop down on one knee to propose. But what is marriage other than a commitment to each other and a costly piece of paper? I don’t care about the paper, Keira. I want the commitment. I promise to always care for you and prioritize your needs. To love you, day in and day out, even when I want to tie you to my bed and punish you for being a brat. I want the ups and the downs, little one. It’s an honor to have your faith and trust put into my hands, inside and out of the bedroom, and I promise to always uphold that significance to the best of my abilities until the day I die.”

I try to hold it together, but a sob escapes, and Harkin pauses. His thumb brushes away the tears, but there’s more the second he pulls away. I know what’s coming next. It’s been on my mind for months and in my dreams longer than I’ve admitted to him. Pushing away from the table, I slink to my knees on the restaurant’s hard floor and sit back, keeping my eyes trained on him the entire time. His gaze is full of adorationthat lights my chest with a warmth I’ve never experienced with anyone else.

“I offer you my collar as a symbol and agreement of your submission to me and the promise it means between us. Will you accept it, little one?”

I’m nodding uncontrollably before he’s able to finish his question. “Yes, Sir. It would be my greatest honor and a dream come true,” I rush out, eager to confirm.

I wait on bated breath as Harkin steps around me, clasping the collar around my neck and closing it into place with the tool he holds firmly in his hand.

“Keira, with this symbol of our pledge to each other, I recognize the responsibility you’ve entrusted to me. I will always use it fairly and never under the guise of falsities or in anger. Your happiness, safety, and love are mine to covet and cherish for the rest of our lives. I love you, little one.”

Harkin holds out his hand, and I grasp it, using his strength to rise on shaky legs. The collar feels weighted around my neck. Not in the way life feels on your shoulders, pushing you down until you crumble into pieces. But like a protective hug holding you together in a space where you’re able to spread your wings and finally be free.

“I love you too, Sir.” I share his sentiment, drawing in a settling breath.

His lips crash into mine, coaxing them apart to dive inside and write our promise on my soul. I’m lost in his arms, giving in entirely and losing myself in the searing kiss. Something pings from his pocket, interrupting our moment, and he ignores it for a while longer before pulling away slowly and dropping a soft kiss on my forehead.

I’m love drunk and ready to take this back to the apartment, but Harkin has a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he tucks his phone back in his pocket.

“What was that about?”

“Part two of the evening. I have one more gift for you.”

He moves quickly, pulling a small bag from under the table to hand over.

“Harkin, I don’t need anything else.”

“Obstinate already, little one?”

“Ugh, you know that’s not what I meant,” I say with a huff.

With a smile, he shakes his head. “Well, then open this one as another gift to me.”

A mass of tissue paper hides the content in the small boutique store bag. Harkin holds it from underneath to make it easier for me to pull out the small piece of lingerie. It’s soft and beautiful, something I’d have easily picked out myself, with the green detailing of snakes stitched into the top and bottom.

“Well, it’s certainly a gift for you. But it’s stunning. I love it. Thank you, Sir.”

“That’s not all. Keep going.”

I don’t want to set the first half of his gift down, but it’s hard to get to whatever’s on the bottom. He holds out his hand to take it from me as if sensing my dilemma. Another small black box lies there. He said marriage wasn’t on his mind, and it failed compared to what he was offering me with the collar, but now I’m wondering if that was just a sleight of hand.

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