Page 107 of We Are Yours

“There are so many scenarios I’ve made up throughout the years. Maybe they were secret spies and had to leave me behind… Maybe she was just a kid herself. Maybe he was too… Maybe they told her I was sick, and she thought she was doing what was best… maybe… maybe… maybe...” She peered deep into my eyes. “Do you want to live the rest of your life with maybes, Julius? Don’t you pray for closure? Not when you lay your head down at night, when you have nothing but your thoughts creeping in…” With confidence, she declared, “I know you do because we’re the same, just different font.”

“Isla—”

“I only found out a few years ago. I went snooping in my files, and you know, curiosity killed the cat.” She scoffed out a chuckle. “On the scale of cruelty, I’d say your mother tried until she couldn’t anymore, and maybe that’s why I ended up in a dumpster as well.”

I could see it in her eyes.

The doubt.

The insecurity.

The resentment.

It was there, staring right at me.

I paid extra attention to the way she looked at me. Isla had always been my biggest weakness, and at the same time, she was my greatest strength.

So many what-ifs raced through my mind.

So many consequences and situations that could still happen.

So many choices that could be right or wrong.

Unable to help myself, I reached over and caressed the side of her face with the back of my fingers. She leaned into my embrace like she had been waiting for me to do so since the second I sat down.

Her eyes closed, melting into my touch.

One thing I was sure of in this second was that her guard was slowly coming down again. She was beginning to realize that when I was with her, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

“Julius…”

My heart sped up, hearing my name roll off her tongue.

The smell and feel of her was all around me, making me burn with desire to claim every last inch of her heart, body, and soul. I wanted to capture this moment and hold on to it for as long as I could. I wanted to remember her just like this.

For me.

Mine.

Her gaze opened with so much emotion it almost knocked the wind out of me.

“We can’t live in the past,” she reminded.

“Then be in the present with me.”

Her breathing hitched when my thumb pulled on her bottom lip. My hand suddenly moved to grip the back of her neck and bring her toward me. She climbed over the table to sit on my lap. In seconds, she was straddling my waist.

“You make me laugh and smile. You make me feel like I’m living for the first time,” I confessed, needing her to hear the truths I’d been living with. “You make me want to be a better man. Do you have any idea how much you affect me? From your eyes to your giggle, to the way you calm me, too. You fill this void, this huge hole in my heart that existed. No one has ever been able to come close to how I feel when you’re in my arms.”

Before she could reply, I kissed her.

I engulfed her, beckoning her lips to open for me. She released a soft moan as my tongue slid into her mouth. Her tears fell between us, and I tasted all of them. I’d always been a man of few words. To me, actions spoke much louder and clearer than any sentence ever could. Yet there I was, laying it all out for her.

Word by word.

Sentence by sentence.

Making my thoughts and emotions known to her.