Page 256 of Ruin My Life
Her voice. Raspy. Quiet. Buthers.
“How lucky I must be to witness it…”
“Brie—”
Her name breaks from my lips like a prayer torn straight from my ribs. I lean back, hardly breathing, and look at her.
Her eyelids flutter heavy with sedation, lashes trembling. But that hazel—warm, green, gold—shines back at me, so heartbreakingly alive.
Her lips curve into the smallest, fiercest, most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen. “Sorry to worry you,” she whispers.
I don’t hesitate. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her.
Ishouldbe gentle. I know that. I know she’s still healing. That her body is probably screaming at her with every shift.
But I kiss her like she’s the first breath after drowning.
Like she’s the first drop of rain in a desert.
Like she’s the blood in my veins and the air in my fucking lungs.
When we finally separate, I gasp—breathing her in.
She smiles up at me through ragged breaths, and it’s everything I need to know she’s still fighting. Stillher.
“I’m so sorry,” I rasp. “I should’ve known. I should’ve figured it out—”
Brie shakes her head slowly. Lifts her hand to my cheek. I catch her wrist, turn my head, and kiss the soft center of her palm. Then I lean into her touch, desperate to keep her connected to me.
“He fooled everyone,” she whispers. “Not just you.”
“But there were signs,” I murmur, brushing stray strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears. “This never should have—”
“I love you.”
My entire world goes silent.
The rest of my words collapse in my throat, crushed beneath hers.
Her thumb strokes my cheek. Slow. Steady. Grounding me. “I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance,” she says softly. “But you told me to say it again when it was over.”
She leans in—barely an inch, barely a breath.
“I love you, Damon.”
It’s a good thing we’re in a hospital, because I swear to god my heart forgets how to beat.
Or maybe this is what a real heart sounds like when it actually works—loud, reckless, alive.
I lower my head, my mouth brushing hers, the words spilling out like worship. “Eres mi definición de amor, mi rosa.”
She smiles softly. “Means?”
I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in.
“You are my definition of love, my rose.”
I kiss her temple. Her cheekbone. The edge of her jaw—every piece of her I almost lost.
