Page 114 of Beautiful Scar

I collapse onto the couch as relief floods me.

“You’re okay,” I say, pulling her hand into mine. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“I’m fine, Tigran, you crazy person.” She’s beaming as she looks over at Grigor. “I think we need a moment alone, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Happily,” the guard grunts and shuts the door behind him.

I pull my wife into my arms. My heart’s racing like crazy. Fuck, I thought she was hurt. I thought the baby might be hurt. I thought everything had gone wrong and I’d fucked up again.

“I’m safe, Tigran,” she whispers, nuzzling close. “I’m safe because of you.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Baby—”

“I’m going to fix everything. Baby-proof every inch of this place. Make it all padded and foam-covered so nobody can ever hurt themselves in here again.”

“Tigran,” she says gently, leaning back. “You can’t do that.”

“Watch me.” I touch her face. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Because I fell off a stepladder?”

“Don’t mock me,pisik.”

She leans in and kisses me gently. “Never. You know that. But please, be realistic.”

“You and the baby are everything to me now.”

“And you’re everything to me.” She kisses me lightly. “But you can’t take the danger away from my life. Not entirely. Remember, everything’s sweeter with contrast?”

“I was talking about making sex feel better by spanking your ass,” I snarl as she strokes my hair.

“But it applies to life too. If I hide away in my rooms forever, what kind of existence is that? Just bland and nothing. Safe but the same every day. I need contrasts, Tigran. A little bit of risk.”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head, but she kisses me firmly.

“Yes, baby, a little bit. A normal amount. Less than most people, but not zero. You can’t keep me sheltered.”

I hug her tight. I know she’s right. Within reason, at least. I can do my best to make sure the big things don’t touch her. Men like Seamus. My future enemies.

But everything else? Bumps and bruises? Little falls from stepladders and twisted knees?

I can’t take that away from her.

That’s living.

“I’m not Natalia,” she whispers, stroking my cheek. “And I never will be.”

Finally, I break. I feel it crack deep inside my soul. The steel I’ve sheltered myself with. The obsession over her safety. The constant nagging fear that I’ll fail her.

“I love you,” I say and pull her into my lap. I kiss her hard. “I love you, and I will protect you and take care of you with everything I have.”

“I know, baby,” she says, blinking rapidly, a big dumb smile on her face. “And I love you too.”

The kiss lasts a long time. It’s laced with the promise of a future. A child together, maybe two, maybe more. Nights in bed exploring our sins. Days growing side by side.

Contrasts too, plenty of contrasts, some of them good and some of the bad, but all of them ours.

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