Page 172 of From Best Friend to Bride
She climbed into bed before I’d even unplugged the hairdryer and held her hand out to me.
With a smile, I climbed in beside her, turned off the bedside lamp, and let her snuggle her way into my arms. “You’re the little spoon tonight, huh?”
“Just for tonight,” she murmured. “Too tired to be the big spoon.”
I laughed quietly. “Hey, if you wake up and I’m gone, I’m just in my office, all right?”
“Do you have something to do?”
“Yeah, I should have done it earlier, but you were more important.” I kissed the top of her head.
“You can go now if you need to,” she said, snuggling in closer and looping her leg over mine.
“Oh, very convincing, wife.”
She let out a little giggle then sighed, and her body fully relaxed into both me and the mattress. Her head was tucked under mine, and as I turned towards her, she pushed her face into me a little more.
God.
If I didn’t have to go to my office to destroy those stupid divorce papers before she asked for them, there was nothing short of an earthquake that could get me out of this bed.
Deli’s breathing evened out after a few minutes, and I smiled as I tenderly ran my fingers through her hair. She was a heavy sleeper, but I didn’t want to leave until I was absolutely sure she wouldn’t wake up.
I didn’t want to leave at all, but that was beside the point.
I stared into the darkness, savouring the sensation of her soft, clean skin beneath my fingertips. I could scarcely believe this had happened. I also knew one thing—I would have to make sure to grab her before she disappeared in the morning, because she would disappear.
Delilahalwaysdisappeared when she was embarrassed or didn’t want to talk about something.
But this?
We were going to talk about it.
And we were going to be honest.
And I was going to tell her that I was so in love with her that I couldn’t think straight. That the mere thought of her leaving made me feel so sick that I could barely breathe.
That I truly, honestly could not live without her.
It was something that had always been the case. The few times in our lives that we’d been separated had always made me feel like I was missing a leg, and I didn’t want to imagine how painful that would be now.
More to the point, I couldn’t imagine it.
Life without Delilah wouldn’t be worth living.
I kissed her shoulder gently, then sighed and whispered, “I love you, Delilah.”
35
FRED
Ipushed open my office door and flicked on the light, then headed right for the cabinet in the corner that held the papers that were my worst nightmare.
They were filed away at the very back, and I pulled out the envelopes that held them. The annulment papers were completely useless now—if Deli still wanted to end this marriage, divorce was the only option.
But she couldn’t.
I wouldn’t let her.
