Page 89 of Silence and Surrender

“Then I’ll spend the rest of my life making damn sure you both know how loved you are.”

The simple declaration made me lose my balance. He caught me automatically, hands steady on my waist.

“Sorry,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for.

“Don’t be.” His thumbs traced gentle circles on my hips. “Not ever.”

I turned in his arms, needing to see his face. “How are you so sure? About everything?”

“I’m not.” His smile was slight. “I’m terrified. Of failing you. Of not being enough. Of making the wrong choices.”

“But?”

“But I love you.” Simple. Direct. Perfect. “And that makes everything else manageable.”

The words hit me like an unexpected summer rain. I’d hoped, wondered, thought I knew. But hearing him say it like that…

“You love me?”

“Of course I love you.” His hand came up to cup my face. “How could I not?”

I pressed closer, breathing in his familiar scent. “Even now? Even now that I’m broken?”

“You’re not broken.” His tone was fierce now. “You’re surviving. Living. Choosing.”

“Loving?” I offered the word like a prayer.

“Yes?” So much hope in his voice.

“Yes.” I stretched up to kiss him—our first real kiss since the rescue. “I love you, too.”

He kissed me back carefully, letting me set the pace. Letting me choose how much, how far, how deep.

Always letting me choose.

When we broke apart, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Whatever happens,” he promised. “Whatever you choose. Whatever the test shows. I’m here.”

“I know.” And I did know. Down to my bones. “That’s why I can be brave.”

“You’ve always been brave.”

“No.” I touched his face, tracing the changes months of worry had wrought. “I’ve always been smart. Now I’m learning to be brave.”

“Like me?” The trace of a smile.

“Like us.” I settled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “Not perfect anymore. But maybe better.”

His arms came around me, gentle but sure. Protected but not possessed.

Loved.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Colton

I paced the private clinic’s waiting room, my footsteps echoing off the tile flooring. It was a small clinic, with just one receptionist sitting behind the desk, typing away on her computer. I focused on the sound of her fingers on the keys, willing the rhythm to help focus my nerves.

I’d never been so nervous before. I hadn’t given much thought to kids, other than ensuring that they weren’t a result of my affairs. I didn’t want to be tied down, didn’t want anyone to have control over me.

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