Page 162 of The Wrong Husband

"Connor"—she sniffles—"you’re killing me,"

I wince. "I hope not."

"Sorry, wrong adjective. I mean… You make it very difficult to be upset with you."

"It’s okay to feel that way. What happened wasn’t easy on either of us. And while you’re right—I felt triumphant that I’d convinced them it was too problematic to keep me and they were better off letting me go—every single second I was in there, I was thinking of you. All I could think was when I got back to you—and I would—I was never going to stop telling you that I love you."

55

Phoenix

The moment the words leave his lips, it’s like a dam bursts inside me—everything I’ve held back, everything I buried to survive—surges free in a rush I can’t contain.

It floods the walls I built around my heart, tearing them down, drowning me in the truth I’ve been too scared to proclaim.

"Every second you were away, I regretted not telling you that I love you. Every second of every day that the rebels kept you, I felt like I died a little inside."

My chest heaves. My fingers tremble. I’m almost giddy with the rightness of what I feel for him, as I clasp his hand.

"I realized, I was one-half of this entity that we became together, and without you, I was only half there. It was as if a vital part of me was missing. I knew, if you didn’t come back, I wouldn’t be whole again. I couldn’t understand how I could feel this…strongly about someone I didn’t even know until a month ago. Another part of me wasn’t surprised about the intensity of my emotions. It felt almost organic. Predestined, maybe."

Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I don’t look away. Not now. Not when I have him back. Not when I can take in his beloved features to my heart’s content and reassure myself that he's here. With me.

My throat tightens, thick with emotion.

“For someone who deals with science, I also know there’s an unseen hand guiding everything. It’s why I see miracles where none should exist. But I lost my faith when Drew died.”

My whole body feels like it’s vibrating with the truth of my words. I feel completely bare. Like I’m letting him look into my soul. And…it feels so right. I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a storm, but unafraid.

“I blamed myself for it. It was my way of dealing with my fears and insecurities. And then, when you traded yourself in for the hostages—it felt like that power was playing tricks on me again.”

His face flickers—just a twitch of muscle—but I see it.

“Only this time… I knew, I couldn’t lose you.”

I curl my toes inside my shoes, trying to anchor myself to the moment.He’s fine. He’s here. He’s safe.

“I couldn’t let that happen to you. I had to…stop myself from being dragged back into that place I’d been after Drew. I had to… I knew, this time was different. I believed you’d come back to me. I believed in you. I believe inus.And I knew when you returned, I was never going to hold myself back again. I wouldn’t let my insecurities run my life anymore.”

My voice catches again.

“I'm never going to give in to my fears again. I'm never going to stop telling you how I feel about you."

"Say that again." His blue eyes deepen to a fierce indigo. The silver sparks seem loaded with intent.

"I'm never going to?—"

He shakes his head. "What you said earlier."

I know what he means, but a streak of mischievousness pushes me to tilt my head. "I'm not going to give in to my fears?"

He scowls. "Fever," he says in that dark voice, "being my doctor only gives you so much leeway."

"Oh right—" I snap my fingers. "You mean, the part where I said I couldn’t lose you?"

He makes a growling sound at the back of his throat. Then, this man who was shot less than twelve hours ago, who was sedated and operated on, and who still has IVs and various other equipment to monitor his vitals attached to him, tugs on my hand. I’m taken by surprise and lose my balance, falling half across his lap.

"You’re hurt," I yelp.