Page 116 of Nine Months to Love
We fall quiet again. I stare out at the lake and think about the future. I remember the stories my father told me and I start to let myself imagine which of them I’ll pass down to my own child.
And I make a decision.
Before our baby is born, I’m going to make Olivia my wife. Not because of tradition or obligation, but because I want to. She deserves to know that I’m all in. That this isn’t temporary or conditional.
She’s it for me. The only one. And I need her to know that.
“Ready to go home?” I ask eventually.
She nods against my chest. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
We stand. I keep my arm around her as we walk back to the car. She leans into me, trusting me to keep her steady.
And I will. For the rest of my life, I will.
36
OLIVIA
For the first time in days, I feel like I can actually breathe. Is the light streaming through the windows more golden today, or is that just me? Are the birds more chipper, or am I imagining things? It’s like all the color has been added back into the world. The smile on my face refuses to go away.
Because things changed last night. Stefan told me the truth about Mikayla last night. He said he loves me last night. Last night, we sat by that lake and talked about our future as if it was something real and tangible instead of a fantasy I’ve been too afraid to reach for.
I turn my head to look at him. He’s still asleep, his face calm and smooth in a way it never is when he’s awake. The hard edges soften. The tension in his jaw eases. He looks younger like this. Almost peaceful.
Not quite, but almost.
I trace a finger along his collarbone along the edge of one of his tattoos. He stirs but doesn’t wake. That little sigh that passes through his perfect lips makes my smile tick one notch wider.
Carefully, I wriggle out from under his arm and sneak across the room to the bathroom. Like Stefan, my face looks a little more at ease in the mirror this morning. And that smile… what a silly, stupid, beautiful thing that is.
I brush my teeth, splash water on my face, and try to ignore the small voice in the back of my mind that whispers about Mikayla locked in the basement below us.
Stefan was right to keep her down there. She tried to hurt me. She sabotaged my clinic. She’s dangerous.
But still… The thought of her trapped in the dark while I sleep in silk sheets and wake up to ocean views makes my stomach twist.
I push the thought away and head to the closet. My swimsuit is hanging where I left it yesterday. I’m thinking of going for a morning dip. The water will help clear my head. It always does.
I change quickly, pulling my hair into a messy bun. When I emerge from the bathroom, Stefan is sitting up in bed, watching me.
“Going somewhere?” His voice has that husky-from-sleep quality, which ought to be regulated by the FDA or something, because it’s an insanely potent aphrodisiac.
“Just for a swim,” I say.
He stretches and yawns. The motion makes the sheet fall to his waist, revealing abs, chest hair, more things that really need to be carefully doled out so they don’t overwhelm a poor, lovesick girl like me. “Want company?”
“I thought I’d go alone this morning. Clear my head a little.”
His brow furrows. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
I hesitate. “About Mikayla.”
That’s all it takes to suck the sexy energy right out of the air. “Olivia?—”
