Page 67 of Surprise Quadruplets for the Mob

It’s a simple answer, but it’s enough for now. I nod and close my eyes for a second, just taking everything in.

“I love you, Abby,” he says, his deep voice soothing me. “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted. I’ve been a fool. I was blinded by my hurt feelings and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I can’t blame you if—”

“You hurt me,” I say quietly, opening my eyes again and letting all my emotions shine through—the hurt, the despair I felt when he turned me away, everything. “You didn’t trust me, you didn’t listen or give me a real chance to prove a thing. You turned me away into danger. Me and your children. On the word of one man.”

His lips purse together, and he looks down, drawing his hands away from me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, before taking a deep breath and looking back up. “I’ve lived my life on the fringes of society, in the darkness, where good people don’t go. You were…youaretoo good to be true, beautiful. I don’t deserve you. So when a man I trusted told me that it was all a fantasy, I believed it. Because it made more sense that a man like me couldn’t have a woman like you. It made more sense that you weren’t good, because I’m not good enough for you.”

My heart sinks as he speaks, his words earnest and quiet, his voice broken. I open my mouth to reply, to say something, anything, but the words won’t come.

“It’s alright,” he says with a soft, defeated smile. “I understand. I won’t try and convince you to come back to me.”

“Maksim…” I choke, but he shakes his head, pushing a strand of my undoubtedly messy hair back from my face.

“It’s alright.” he repeats. “I’m going to look after you, regardless. I will provide for you and our children for as long as you need. Longer. And I just hope that in time you can trust me enough to let me be a part of their lives. That’s all I ask.”

I reach out and capture his hand with both of mine, drawing it forward so I can kiss his palm, before laying it across my cheek. He takes a deep breath, and I hold his hand to my face so he doesn’t move it.

“Maksim,” I try again, “You hurt me, and you turned me away, and I left. But even so, even after all that, you came for me. You saved me, you saved our children. You didn’t stop caring. You didn’t hesitate.”

He curls his fingers into my skin, holding my face in his hand, and when I look into his eyes they’re blazing with heat and…and love, I can see the love shining right through him.

“Nobody’s perfect,” I whisper. “We all make mistakes, we all grow. And it’s me that’s not good enough for you, Maks. I didn’t even try to fight that night, not really. I just turned and ran. I should have—”

“Don’t,” he growls, leaning closer to me, palms still warm against my cheek. “You did what you had to. I was angry, and you had the children to think of.”

“Even so—” But his thumb shifts to cover my lips, and I stop talking.

“You’re perfect,” he says, before his hand slips down to cover my neck, right where he held me in anger. But his fingers are gentle, and he stares down at his hand as if he, too, is remembering that moment and regretting every second of it. “I’m sorry.”

“I do, you know,” I say as I stare at him, willing him to feel all the good things in my heart for him, too. All the love and peace he brings me, all the joy our union has made, everything. “I do forgive you. I forgave you before you even came for me. I was already trying to make my way back to you. I love you, and I refuse to let go of what we have. I refuse.”

He surges forward suddenly, claiming my lips with his in a searing kiss, claiming every inch of my heart, and we both pour everything we have into each other through our lips.

When he finally pulls back, we’re both out of breath, and he leans his forehead against mine. “All I want is for us to be together. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Me too,” I whisper, my heart racing.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he promises. “The Irish are done. I have no doubt. We’re safe.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” He shifts up and kisses my forehead gently. “We have nothing to worry about. We have each other, and the children. That’s all that matters.”

I know he’s right, and as the realization sinks in, I start to cry. Tears of happiness.

“I’m sorry, Abby. For all the times I’ve doubted you.”

“I forgive you,” I say, sniffling. “Just promise me you’ll never do it again.”

“Never,” he swears, and I believe him. “I know better, now.”

“If there’s ever any doubts, we talk about it, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Really talk about it. No shouting and threatening. We listen to each other, we try to be rational. You and me both. No matter what.”

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