Page 103 of Severed Heart (The Ravenhood Legacy #2)

Chapter Fifty-Four

T YLER

B LINK .

Delphine and I sway in the free-standing hammock I put together today at the side of the house, which grants the most optimal view of the hillside next to it.

As we settle in for our nightly show and the sun starts its descent, I hold her a little tighter than usual.

It’s been a little over a week since her scan and bloodwork, and since, I’ve all but terrorized the Blue Ridge staff and her oncologist at this point in demanding the results back.

Especially after realizing how much weight she’s lost in the last three weeks. Something she didn’t mention, but I’ve been vigilant about monitoring since she got her first clear scan.

It’s the fear of what the sudden shift might mean that’s had me glued to her side day and night.

The fact that there is a one- to two-week fucking wait for imaging results for someone who might be or has been ill is fucking bullshit to me.

You would think that after billions of dollars have been raised, donated, and spent for both treatment and cure, someone would, at the very least, have found a quicker route to get results.

The fact that it takes so fucking long for anyone that could be terminally ill to gain that life-changing information feels unbelievably and unnecessarily cruel.

I’ve been keeping us as busy as I can with tasks at the orchard, filling every minute with new memories, but tonight, my anxiety refuses to abate.

I’m even more on edge because we only have a week before Dom and Sean’s homecoming.

Until they discover what Delphine and I now know.

That Tobias, too, has fallen for Cecelia Horner.

And worse? She’s fallen for him. Not only that, but they’ve set up house at Roman’s.

It’s too much of a mind fuck for me to decipher what feelings to have about it, so I blink it out, instead concentrating on my own love story.

“Soldier,” Delphine draws out sleepily as I rock us with my foot, my leg hanging just out of the hammock to keep us going.

The night noise starts to surround us as the sun vanishes.

The fireflies already sparking up, looking like a blinking blanket hovering over the surrounding grass.

The atmosphere peaceful in contrast to the riot in my head and chest with the verdict looming.

I don’t want her to fucking suffer anymore, in any fucking capacity, for any reason. She’s been through enough.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Do you believe in God?”

When I instantly tighten my grip—giving myself away—she immediately speaks up. “No, Soldier, this isn’t fear. This is a conversation we’ve never had because I do fear your answer.”

“You think I don’t?” I deduce.

“I think you are brilliant, but for you, science and reasoning overrules spirituality.”

“I debate it often,” I tell her honestly. “I guess you could say for now I’m agnostic.”

“This makes me happy. I hope every day that God wins, that He convinces you He’s real,” she says.

“Why do you believe?” I ask, knowing whether or not she’s admitting it, she’s scared. Her thoughts on God are because of the fear she’s not voicing because, for her and so many others, simply believing is comforting.

“I believe because I have felt God’s presence with me many times in my life.

Even after I numbed. It was not Matis’s rules about cleanliness, or anything else to abide by that kept me faithful.

It was feeling His presence with me during good days and bad.

I feel it so much sometimes with you, and because of you, my miracle, that He is often with us.

But sometimes my logic-necessary brain makes me doubt.

It is ironic though, that even during those times, I believe. ”

“You can talk to me if you’re scared,” I whisper.

She piles her palms on my chest before resting her chin on them, staring at me for long seconds before speaking softly. “Soldier, we both know .”

“For once, could you not be so intuitive?” I drawl around the instant burn searing my chest as I force the question out. “Do you feel sick?”

“No, not yet.” She bites her lip before she speaks. “But, Soldier, I know .”

The burning inside goes straight to inferno as she does her best to calm it. “I have won this battle before, and I have never been more ready to fight. For us, for our heaven on earth here. Soldier, I promise you. You said our thoughts are powerful, right?”

“Right,” I manage around the scald—this particular mental fight fucking horrific.

“Then I will believe myself to win again.”

Fear mutes me briefly as I nod until I can speak. “Then I will, too.”

“If I am right, I promise you, Soldier. I will fight so very hard.”

“Stop trying to console me. I believe in you, in your words , always have,” I whisper low because if I don’t, she’ll hear the crack of fear winning. Instead, I grin back at her, palming her crown and running my thumb along her hairline and down her cheek.

“I love it when you do this,” she whispers, nuzzling into my touch.

“I know,” I tell her, “and I have faith in you. That you are going to beat it, and that’s only if you’re right, General,” I state, managing to rein it in. “You’ve been wrong before and lost money during the Super Bowl.” I quirk a brow.

“I made a bet,” she grumbles, “ that was the point. It was a therapy breakthrough,” she justifies.

“Is my little tightwad still sore she lost a thousand bucks betting on the Broncos to my Uncle Gray?”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Oof,” I chuckle. “But I told you to always bet on the birds .” I wink.

“I love you so much,” she blurts, seemingly out of nowhere, thankful that the arrival of her declaration works like a cool balm to my stinging soul.

“Well, I was hoping you did. Especially tonight,” I tell her.

“Oh? Why?”

“Because I have something I want to give you.” I adjust her so I can reach into my pocket and pull it out, keeping it clenched in my fist.

“What is it?”

“Someday, we’re going to have to make you understand the fun part of gift-giving,” I chuckle.

“You have given me too much already,” she says, eyeing my fist.

“Don’t want it?” I ask. “Because I’ll give you a little background on when I got it.

It was the same day you tried to kill me with the saltiest fucking enchiladas in world history,” I quip before we both burst into laughter.

My lips burn in remembrance of the night I ate two of them just to keep her laughing, as she refused more than our first mouthful before making a frozen pizza.

“What do you have for me, Soldier?”

“Again, this is to be revealed, that is, if you can get my fist open .”

“Argh,” she drawls, “impossible. I surrender already. You are a brute.”

“And you are the most brilliant strategist on the planet,” I tell her. “You’ll think of something .”

“This is true,” she says confidently.

“Modest, too,” I chuckle as she starts to try and pry my fist open. Within a minute, she’s full-on straddling me in the swinging hammock, her temple covered in sweat as I egg her on.

“Guess you don’t want it badly enough,” I quip just before she shoves her tiny bare foot into my armpit while trying to rip my arm off.

“Ok-kay, ouch, shit.” I jerk as she indirectly draws a tickled laugh from me. “I’m b-beginning to think you want it.”

“Give it to me!” she orders in exasperation.

“Who’s the brute now?” I muse as she wrestles me for another minute until she finally collapses on top of me, her aggravated muffle sounding in my chest. “You, Soldier, are an asshole .”

“And you are the love of my life,” I murmur before she lifts her head and stares for lingering seconds. The way she always does when I relay any sentiment of the like toward her. Taking my words to heart, her silver eyes shine with happiness as the dim light of the porch dances along her profile.

“You already know you are mine, too,” she admits freely. “You bring me so much happiness, Soldier.”

“Hey, this is my speech .”

“You are giving a speech to me? Why?”

“Because I want you to have this,” I whisper, lifting my closed fist and opening my fingers slowly, angling my wrist to capture the nearby porchlight as the ring comes into view. She gasps at the sight of it, darting her eyes from me to the ring and back.

“Soldier... what does this mean?” she asks, openly gaping at the solid band made up of diamonds.

“This is my forever,” I whisper, emotion clear in my voice. “And there’s only one woman on earth I will ever want to give it to. I just hope she really wants it.”

“Oh! I want it so much!” she admonishes tearfully as she sinks back onto me, nestled in my arms before holding up her left hand, which sparks hope in my chest. Gripping the ring, I flirt the glittering circle onto the top of each of her fingers without sliding it onto any of them, repeating the motion until she sounds up.

“Which one, Soldier?”

“Which one do you want it to be?” I murmur to her temple.

“This one.” She wiggles the ring finger as my heart thunders, and I slide it on. The fit is perfect as she keeps her hand up, the two of us admiring it for long seconds.

“What would you have done if I wanted it on my middle finger?” she laughs.

“I would have had it resized,” I tell her honestly, elation covering me about the finger she chose. “But since I got the right finger, will you lift your beautiful eyes to mine so I can pose the question that goes with it?”

She rolls back over, tears slipping down her cheeks as she clears her eyes, adamant about not missing any part.

“Can I have your forever, too, baby?” I murmur. “Will you marry me?”

She nods and nods. “Yes, yes, yes. Soldier, you’ve always had my forever, my miracle, my love, you are why I have faith.

” She barely manages to get the words out before we’re kissing to seal the deal.

My elation easing some of the anxiety as we spend long minutes reveling in our decision, until I give her my delayed reply.

“Then maybe you’ll be the reason I have faith too.”

“When will we get married?” she asks.