Page 58 of When Love Changes Everything

She nods, her fingers instinctively pulling the collar of her pajama top closed. "I know we need to talk," she says, her voice quiet, "but do you mind if I take a quick shower first?"

"I’ll wait," I reply, offering a reassuring smile, though all I want is to pull her into my arms and hold her until the pain, doubt and uncertainty of the last few days fade.

I watch her retreat into our bedroom, her steps light. The door closes behind her, and I realize I’ve yet to see the room that now belongs to both of us.

***

Lisa steps out of the bedroom wearing a robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. The soft fabric clings to her, and she looks calm, resolute, and breathtakingly beautiful. Every instinct in me wants to close the distance, to touch her, to show her how much I’ve missed her these last few days. Life without her feels unimaginable now—because she is my life.

"Thank you for waiting," she says, offering me a faint smile.

"You're welcome," I say, matching her smile.

"How did you know my father was here?" she asks, her fingers tugging at the towel as she unwinds it from her hair. Red waves tumble free, framing her face. The faint scent of lavender fills the room, but it’s her unmistakable fragrance that surrounds me, intoxicating and utterly hers.

"Aaron," I reply, my eyes tracing her face, her hair, the curve of her neck, unable to look away. "Loren called him to let him know your dad had shown up, so he called me."

She nods slowly, her expression thoughtful. Her eyes meet mine briefly before she drops her gaze, and for a moment, she seems almost hesitant. "I owe you an apology," she says.

I take a step closer, unable to resist the pull between us. With a gentle touch, I lift her chin with my thumb, guiding her to look at me. "I'm sorry too," I say, my voice low.

"For what?" she whispers.

"For not telling you about my trip to LA. I wanted to surprise you. Then when I couldn’t convince your dad, I thought it was best not to tell you. I couldn't stand the thought of hurting you."

"But you let me believe that you and Mar—"

"Hermosa," I murmur, reaching for her hand, my fingers brushing hers with deliberate tenderness. "I never want to hear that woman’s name again. Especially not here. In our home. In the place we’re building together."

"I agree," she says softly, her nod decisive. "Never again."

Lifting her hand to my lips, I press a lingering kiss to her knuckles, my gaze never leaving hers.

"I knew, deep down, that sooner or later you’d believe me when I said I never saw her," I continue. "I have never lied to you, Lisa."

Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t speak, waiting for me to go on.

"I was wrong to keep what happened with your dad from you," I admit, my thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I thought I was protecting you. But I see now that hiding the truth was a mistake. I should’ve told you."

"I understand why you did it," she concedes. "You wanted to spare my feelings."

"When I told you I'd never hurt you, I meant it," I murmur, each word a promise I intended to keep.

"I believe you," she says, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. Those pink lips I haven't kissed in days.

As if reading my mind, her smile deepens. "Yes," she says softly, "Kiss me, Mateo. Kiss me the way only you can."

Leaning over. I press my lips to her cheek, then trail them down her neck, inhaling the soft scent of her shampoo. "I've missed you so much," I whisper in her ear, my voice low and filled with longing.

"I missed you too," she replies, her blue eyes dark and expressive.

"Hermosa," I whisper, "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making you happy."

"I believe you." She smiles, the warmth of her gaze pulling me in.

"Your love has changed me," I say, my lips brushing softly against hers. "It’s changed everything—who I am, how I see the world."

"I believe you," she whispers, her breath warm against my lips.

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