Page 91 of The Casualty of Us (Philosophies of the Heart Duet #1)

Chapter Forty-Five

I wake with a jolt at the sound of a quiet pop, immediately breathing deep and smelling nothing but pomegranates as something tickles my nose.

My eyes open just enough to see the brown waves falling around the arch of the neck I have my face buried in.

One of my arms is wrapped around her waist, and I have a crick in my neck from the way I’m pretty much half rolled on top of her. Not that I care in the least.

I’m already thinking of ways to make her smile today.

Because even with still being on the floor with her, this is by far the best Christmas I’ve ever had, and the day hasn’t even started yet.

Actually everything that’s happened since I got here has been like watching my every hope play out in real time.

The freedom I finally have from my mother being the least of it because I realized the other night that I never truly knew love until that moment.

That moment of someone giving you every part of themself without any hesitation.

Of trusting you so completely, they’re willing to open themselves up in every way. To embrace pain for you even.

To be so completely vulnerable that it feels like you’re holding their soul in your hands instead of their body. Her heart seems to beat right alongside mine now, with my entire world being reordered around it accordingly.

It’s the most humbling thing I’ve ever experienced.

Brought me to my knees in a way nothing else ever has in life.

Not even the first time I managed to string a few wobbly notes together.

Would’ve had me waking up doing some embarrassing shit like picking out baby names in my head if it weren’t for the outright terror that followed on the heels of all those other revelations.

The moment when she woke me up in the middle of the night, having figured it out, was the one when I finally realized it.

Something I hadn’t accounted for before then.

That he understands her just as well as I do.

Somehow he knows she won’t walk away from this either and is betting on that.

Is smart enough to be able to feed her things she can’t put down.

It had me clutching her even tighter with all those realizations roaring viciously, sliding back inside of her without thinking about how she was already going to be sore the next day.

Needing to know she was really mine. Defiant in the face of someone else thinking they could take her from me and wanting to claim her so deeply that the rest of the world would never question it again. That we belong to each other.

That maybe somehow the sick fuck would feel it wherever he was and put himself in my path instead of hers.

Let me do to him what I still mulled over tracking Thomas down and doing from time to time.

The thought of letting anyone else protect her or enact revenge on her behalf flew right out the fucking window the minute she finally said the words I’ve been waiting on.

Then Ollie woke my ass up and told me everything she had been doing for me without even saying anything.

Told me what he had seen between her and my mom and where she went after.

I’d just sat there for a minute, staring at him with it sinking in, the thing I’d already known but hadn’t voiced until then.

That there would never be anyone else for me—not in this lifetime or any after, because the truth is my belief begins and ends with one girl.

I’d told Ollie as much and then spent the time she’d been shopping looking at rings, figuring she’d probably freak the fuck out if I gave it to her before summer at the earliest. Then I’d spent the time while she napped picking out an entirely different piece of jewelry and brooding.

Hating that she lost anything of hers because of me, even if I love her for it too.

Mia had been cool enough to receive the package from the courier yesterday for me though. Passing it over at the start of the night for me to tuck behind the tree while muttering something about me being her pick.

A soft little noise fills my ears then, the unintelligible mumble coming after it making my lips lift with how deeply asleep she still is.

It settles something inside of me and has me pressing my lips to her neck with a soft kiss before pulling back.

Not truly wanting to wake her up because she needs the sleep but unable to leave her without the contact either.

I run my eyes over her face to see her cheeks are red from how I’m probably overheating her, but she doesn’t look too upset about it either.

She’s all cute with her eyes moving beneath her lids, and there’s a peace to her face in sleep that somehow makes her look a little younger.

It has me wondering if that’s what she looked like all the time before the kidnapping for a minute.

Not liking the idea of it and promising myself that one day soon she’ll be able to walk around without fear again.

I steal another quick kiss before sliding off her, figuring that it’ll give me time to grab some coffee and her other present from where it’s stashed in my bag. The holiday seems to bring out a lighter side of her that I love to see and I don’t want anything to mess it up today.

Plus last year was definitely a fucking airball on my part.

A yawn leaves me as I push the door open that leads into the kitchen, the sight of her dad standing behind the island in the early morning light and already dressed for the day stopping me short.

Not knowing where to start with my own dad half the time, much less the father of the girl who lights up my world.

His eyes rise to mine from where he’s reading through some papers with a mug in hand. “Morning.”

Fuck.

I run a hand through my hair, quickly clearing my throat and stepping fully into the room. “Morning.” Remembering as the door swings shut behind me, I add, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” He nods, taking a sip while continuing to hold my gaze and eventually offering, “Want some coffee? Or are you a tea person too?”

“No.” I shake my head quickly, a beat passing before I think to tack on, “Sir.” His face fills with an expression that almost looks like humor, and I nod. “Coffee is great, thanks.”

My brows drop as he turns around, trying for the first time to not think about what happened a couple of nights ago with his daughter.

Shit is awkward as hell.

He gets another mug out of the cabinet and pours a cup for me as I pull out one of the stools at the island, figuring it wouldn’t be a good impression to just grab it and go.

Especially considering that he had to walk past us to get to the kitchen in the first place…

which means he also saw me wrapped around O like a pretzel.

Fucking hell.

“Here.” He pushes the mug across the island, openly considering me and not doing anything to try and hide it. “Cream or sugar?”

“No.” I shake my head while reaching for the mug. “I’m good, thanks.” My eyes drop to the papers he has splayed out on the counter and I try for conversation. “You working on Christmas?”

“No.” A short sound of amusement leaves him.

“No, surprisingly.” I look back up to see him continuing to eye me.

“Ophelia’s mother won’t be able to rest easily until her trust is set right.

It’ll be this little worry in the back of her head that something’s out of place when it comes to her babies, and I don’t want it bothering her today.

” He shrugs, setting the mug down and picking up a pen.

“I took care of it last night so that she has a good day.”

“Right.” My shoulders tense at the topic, and I swallow before trying to make amends. “My father asked that I pass along that he would like to pay Ophelia back—

“That’s not necessary.”

He raises a hand but I push on despite the uncomfortable note that’s lingered between us the couple of times we’ve met so that he doesn’t think I’m just some piece of shit who might be taking advantage of her.

“Please.” I clear my throat. “Your daughter is my everything, sir.” Using the way his face falls with surprise to my advantage, I press quickly.

“I’m so in love with her that my first thought every morning is how I can make her smile that day.

” My heart beats harder with the words, but I finish truthfully.

“Ophelia is the reason I never knew I needed.”

The echoes of the past in my words from that day on the beach before I even met her hit me as I watch a thoughtful expression overtake his face, and not an entirely happy one either. It has my stomach twisting because I never considered what the fuck I’m supposed to do if her parents don’t like me.

“It’s already done,” he eventually sighs, the drawn-out quality to it not offering any comfort when his eyes drop to the counter again.

They stay there as he sets the pen down carefully before lifting them back to mine and starting.

“You know, when the twins were born, we didn’t know what they were going to be—boy or girl. ”

He nods like this sudden story time should make sense to me, and I do it too, getting a strong sense of Ophelia here.

Not thinking I really have a choice but to go along for the ride.

“Blythe wanted to be surprised.” He dips his head from side to side.

“I couldn’t take it but told her that I didn’t care either way.

” A half-amused grin comes and goes just as quickly.

“And that was true too. I cared more that they were healthy than anything else.” He pauses, holding my gaze with an even deeper sigh.

“But there was always a part of me that had pictured a boy…hoped for it actually.”

The guilt that flashes over his face reminds me of Ollie’s last night and has me tensing automatically, unable to help the way my eyes narrow on him next.

Hating every part of what he’s staying on an instinctual level.

That he might’ve not wanted her as badly as Ollie for even a split second.