Page 159 of This Life of Mine

“…and ordered for you without asking,” I added. “Tipped poorly.”

She groans. “God, yes. And the one who said I’d be perfect if I just…”

“…lost a few pounds,” I finish flatly. “Said it like it was constructive criticism. Fuck that guy! You are perfect.”

Her mouth drops open. Then she laughed, shaking her head. “You really heard all of it, didn’t you?”

“Against my will,” I say. “I have survived things that would end lesser men.”

That did it. We laughed harder, breathless, the kind that folds you in half. She was half-mortified, half-delighted, and I realized how much lighter everything felt when we were on the same side of the joke.

Men who talked too much. Men who negged. Men who tried to get too close.

We tear them apart with surgical precision and zero mercy.

At some point, she ends up sitting on my lap at the kitchen table, arms loose around my shoulders, like it was just…normal. Like we’ve always done this.

I hold her here now, steady and unguarded, with no calculation left in me.

No contingency plan. No exit strategy. Just truth.

And a quiet, satisfied certainty that if surviving her past made her this clever, this funny, this alive—

Whatever comes next, I am in the exact place meant for me.

“I know,” I say quietly, “that you deserve someone better than me.”

She leans back and starts to protest, but I signal my disapproval.

“No, wait. Please listen.” My voice is steady, even if my heart isn’t. “You deserve someone uncomplicated. Someone without blood on his hands. Someone whose past doesn’t come with shadows that might spill into your life.” I swallow. “And that’s not me.”

I meet her eyes, refusing to look away from what I am. “I won’t lie to you and pretend I’m the safest choice. I’m not. I never will be.”

Her brow furrows, but she doesn’t move.

“But here’s the truth,” I continue. “I will do whatever it takes to earn my place beside you. I know what you’re worth.”

I gesture between us. “I know what it costs you to choose someone like me.”

My jaw tightens. “I’ll show up. I’ll fight the battles that need fighting and step back when you don’t need me in them. I’ll protect what you’ve built.”

I pause, letting the next part land.

“But know this—I’m way too fucking selfish to walk away from you even knowing all of that.”

A faint, rueful expression appears on my face. “If I walk away because I think you deserve better, I’d be making that decision for you. And you’ve had enough people deciding thingsforyou.”

I pull her close to me.

“I hope you’ll allow me to prove—day by day—that I am worthy enough to stand beside you.”

I pause for a moment. My eyes focused, never leaving hers.

Because the truth—the honest, unfiltered truth—is this: I have no desire to be the man she almost had. I want to be the man she chose, and I want to carry the weight and privilege of that choice.

I draw her closer for another kiss, gentle and endearing.

She holds my face in her hands as our lips collide.