Page 234 of Sinful Desires
Every day. Every minute.
I laughed as I pushed his wheelchair down the garden ramp we had installed years ago, the wheels gliding over the smooth surface still warm from the afternoon sun.
Dozens of white balloons floated above the garden, swaying gently on satin strings. Light filtered through the trees, casting soft shadows that danced across the grass.
Georgino, Angelo’s evil little monster, came tearing through our legs, wild and happy, his ears flapping as he barked and circled us, too excited to settle.
“There they are,” Angelo called, lifting his glass high.
Conversations stopped. Every head turned.
Then I heard her.
“Papa! Papa!”
She came running, arms wide, curls bouncing.
I caught her just before she crashed into me, lifting her into the air with a laugh.
“Coucou, ma princesse.”
She giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck, her breath warm against my skin. Her hair smelled like strawberries and salt and summer.
“Papa,” she whispered, face lit with wonder, “this is the best birthday ever!”
“Anything for you,” I murmured, brushing her cheek. “Three years old is a big number, you know.”
She giggled, the sound high and sweet. Her little fingers played with the gold necklace resting on my chest, the one I’d worn for nine years now.
“Mamansaid I’m old enough to pick lavender now!”
I laughed, heart swelling, and adjusted her on my hip as we walked through the garden. The stone path glowed under the sun, lined with soft purple and white blooms swaying gently in the breeze.
Ahead, a long wooden table sat under a canopy of rose vines, draped with linen and flowers, overflowing with food, berries, and a three-tiered cake shaped like a unicorn, its frosting glimmering with gold.
Scarlett stood beside it in a flowing white dress, her blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail, strands escaping like sunlightcaught in the wind. She had returned to her natural color a few years ago, saying she didn’t need to hide anymore.
The red had been her armor.
Now, she was ready to embrace who she truly was, without disguise, without fear.
She wasn’t trying to change. She was reaching back to the girl she used to be. The one she had locked away. The one she thought no one could love.
But I had seen her, loved her, even when she couldn’t.
And now she was here. Mine.
Not some polished version meant for the cameras. Not the fighter built from pain.
Just her. The woman I’d married. The one I would burn the world for.
And when I looked at her, it wasn’t only peace I felt.
It was worship.
Jade hugged her tightly from the side, both of them laughing, glasses in hand.
The sound of waves whispered around us, and somewhere behind us, Georgino barked at a balloon floating skyward.
