“You are.”
We didn’t say anything more, letting our bodies and our touch speak for us. His kisses were both sweeter and deeper than ever, and my orgasm, when it arrived, stretched and unfurled through me, reaching every molecule of my being with its satiating bliss.
When we’d finished, I curled up next to him under his sheet, my temple pressed to his. I crossed my arm over his chest and let my fingers dance aimlessly along his neck as we stared up at the ceiling. My mind was calmer now. My anxiety quieted.
“I’m sorry, Gwen,” he said, breaking the silence.
“For what?”
“I should have listened to you. We weren’t safe. I put you and the baby at risk. If that bullet had hit you instead—”
“Stop it. It didn’t hit me. We’re okay, and after tomorrow, we’ll be even safer.”
“Yes. We’ll be safe. All three of us.” He brought his free hand up to sweep up and down my arm. “Tell me something. The other day you asked if I cared about testifying for Corinne more than anything else. Do you really think that?”
I was surprised by the question and started to tell him that it was only said in the heat of the moment then thought better of it. This was a time for honesty. “Truthfully, I really don’t know. It wasn’t fair to say that to you. Testifying is the right thing, and part of me believes you’d do it for anyone. But another part of me can’t help but feel like you chose her over me. When you left me the first time, it was for her, in a way.”
I couldn’t see his face, but I felt the furrow of his brow anyway. “It was for me. It was what I had to do.”
“I know. You’re a good guy like that. I also know you loved her, and even after she died, you were still willing to sacrifice your life for her.” I’d thought these words for so long, but it was so strange to finally be having this conversation. Even stranger was how unimportant it seemed now. Funny how a traumatic situation could change a person’s perspective.
“I didn’t realize that’s what it looked like to you.”
“It did before. Not anymore. Now I understand you better, and I admire your commitment to justice. Not everyone would be willing to go through that, even for someone they loved as much as you loved her.”
“I don’t know if seeking justice is a real testament of love.”
“Not the seeking justice,” I clarified, “the sacrifice.”
“Yeah. Sacrifice.” He was quiet a beat. “You know, I don’t remember that feeling anymore. I know that I loved her, and I know that I could barely function when she died. But the actual emotion? It’s faded now. Especially in comparison to what I feel for you.”
I took a shaky breath in then let it out. “I used to be so afraid that you’d always love her more than me. I feel so stupid after I hear you say something like that.”
“That’s not stupid. It’s natural, I think. But, you know, it was never possible that I would always love her more. There was a time that I did, of course. Before I knew you. When we’d just met. But every day that passes, what I felt for her dims. And every day that I know you, my feelings grow. I love you more today than I did when I asked you to marry me. And I loved you more then than when I asked you the first time. And I loved you more then than when I first realized that I loved you at all.”
He rolled onto his good arm so he could face me. “As long as we’re alive, it will keep growing.”
I turned toward him and cupped his cheek. “I wouldn’t have lived if anything had happened to you today.”
“You would have.” He circled my nose with his. “It might feel like you had died, but you’d have lived.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted to live.”
“I only want to live because of you.”
Somehow, without saying it aloud, I was pretty sure we both understood what this really was—our wedding. These were our vows. These were our declarations of love and commitment. Whether or not the paternity test showed JC as the likely father, we wouldn’t have the ceremony that we’d planned. So we’d have this instead. This was just as good.
Maybe this was even better.
Chapter Twenty-One
Drew sent me home a little after midnight.
As soon as I walked in the door, I set about getting ready to leave. It took hours to pack an overnight bag. What things could I live without? What things were essential? The items I’d normally cherish—my laptop, my cell charger—were pointless now. I wouldn’t need the files for The Sky Launch. My phone would likely be tossed.
In the end, I gathered my prenatal vitamins and a few photos of my family, as well as a change of clothes for each of us. The bag was small enough to pass for what someone would typically take to a patient in the hospital, and if Drew told me it was too much, I would leave it without hesitation.