Page 157 of King of Ashes
She cries softly, twisting my insides. I can’t stand her tears.
I cup her cheek and she leans into my touch. “I thought I’d lost you. Again.” Then she slaps my arm, her voice turning gravelly. “Don’t you ever dare to scare me like that. You marriedme, put a child in me. You wanted this family, so you better stay alive. I won’t let you off the hook. I’ll curse you back to life if I must.”
I grin, happiness welling inside me. “You came back.”
It’s not a question, but a statement. The reason doesn’t matter.
She leans over and peppers my face with kisses. “I wasn’t leaving. I meant it literally: I needed a moment. After being holed up for so long, I sought fresh air to process everything.” She inhales deeply and continues, “I went to our house. We’re moving there.”
My grin stretches; it might as well become a permanent fixture on my face.
“And since we’re in the hospital, we could see our baby’s first sonogram.”
Baby. Wife. Love.
My second near-death experience was totally worth it, but I think this is one of those things I should keep to myself.
“Thank you for erasing the evidence of my attempt to destroy our home.”
I stretch out my hand to her face, brushing my knuckles along her cheek. “It’s yours to do with as you please.”
“Then I wish to grow a family there.”
“Come here,” I say, patting the spot next to me.
A cute little frown digs between her brows. “No, I won’t risk your healing.”
“Always such a good girl.”
“Vian,” she tries for a chastising tone but fails.
“Did I stutter? I need you.”
That does the trick, and she slips next to me, extra careful not to hurt me. She leans against my uninjured side, and as she brings her palm to my chest, I see it bears a reddish hue.
I stare, entranced, and a deep sigh wrenches from her throat. “I will wash them. I just didn’t find the time. You were in surgery, and I was too busy praying. I guess God listens even if you’re a sinner. I don’t want your blood on my hands, Vian, but it gave me hope, reminded me you were still here.”
“I’m sorry I put you through this.”
She shakes her head, closing her eyes. “It’s not your fault. I sensed something was off. I…”
“Look at me,” I urge, and grip her chin, placing a sweet kiss on her lips that let out a tiny sound of pleasure. “You’re my life.”
“No one is leaving the other,” she says, her tone laced with determination, and we intertwine our fingers, sealing the promise.
My hand moves lower to her belly, and she sucks in a breath, smiling. “I like that.”
“Thank you, Zara.”
Her eyes water. “No, thank you for loving me like you do. I am sorry, baby, so sorry.”
“I don’t need your apology. I just need you. And right now, I need you to sleep for me.”
Even for my strong woman, everything that has transpired has taken a toll on her—and she’s pregnant.
“No, I…” She bites her lip in protest. Even though her eyelids threaten to close at any moment, my wife is stubborn.
“I won’t go anywhere. I promise. You two go to sleep. It’s my turn to keep you safe.”
