Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Well, I don’t want to be high in the sky!” she shoots right back, her chin tilting up defensively. “I don’t want a glass box above the city for a baby. I want my feet on the ground or as near to the ground as they can possibly be.
“Fine, we’ll go house hunting this weekend. We’ll find a place with a yard, near the ground, or whatever you want.” I don’t hesitate with my response.
“Oh. Oh. Well, we still really have to talk about the rest.” Romy blinks, completely thrown off balance with how quickly I’ve conceded.
“Then sit,” I command gently, walking over to the small refrigerator disguised in the cabinetry. I pull out a cold bottle of water, twist the cap off, and walk back to her. This time, she lets me get close. I guide her with the palm of my hand on her lower back to the plush sofa in the corner of my office. Romy sinks into the cushions, looking tiny against the dark leather, and takes the water from my hand, taking a few small sips. I don’t sit opposite of her, instead, I drop to my ass on the wood coffee table. My knees brush hers, and it places me at her level. I take a moment to compose myself before digging into the shadows of a past I’ve spent a lifetime trying to bury.
“Vik.” Whatever Romy sees in my eyes has her fingers linking through mine.
“You want to know why I was anti-children and why I didn’t want a relationship.” I trail off for a moment. “My childhood… my father was a bastard, an absolute monster. He spent years beating me and my mother black and blue, every single time he had too much to drink or when the world didn’t go his way. Neither of us could do anything about it because Mom is smaller, fragile, and if I fought back, he’d take it out on her more.” Romy’s breath hitches, eyes widening with deep sorrow. “I grew up terrified of my own skin,” I admit, the confession tasting like cigarette ash in my mouth. “I have his blood running through my veins. The worry sat in the pit of my stomach that if I ever had a child of my own, the same sickness would wake up inside of me. I didn’t want his blood to be passed down. I thought the safest thing I could do for the world was to ensure the Orlov name ends with me. Then I met you, we created this baby, and once I didn’t have you and found out you were carrying the best part of me, I realized I’m already better than him.”
“Oh, Vik.” Her hand tightens around mine, and it takes everything I have not to pull her into my lap.
“I work for one thing. I can control my drinking—albeit, I did a hell of a lot more than I should have when you weren’t around and I was trying to dull the pain in my chest, but I saw through my own bullshit. I looked in the mirror and realized that the woman I loved would slip right through my fingers if I didn’t get my shit together and face my demons.”
“You… you love me?” she whispers, staring at me, her voice barely a breath. A rough, self-deprecating laugh escapes my chest. “I more than love you, Romy. I’d rip my heart out of my chest and lay it in the palm of my hands. I figure I’ve shown it in every single thing I’ve done since the day you’ve returned to my life. Obviously, I screwed up since I haven’t said the words. So, let me tell you.” I shift closer, my thighs opening hers, my hands cradling her face, my thumbs sweeping away the remnants of her tears. “I love you, Romy Laurent. I love you so much it terrifies me. I’m done running from it, though. I’d marry you tomorrow, buy a house for our family today. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you at every single turn possible. You’re it for me, you and our baby, and any future children we may have.”
The tears spill over her lashes again, and the sorrow in her face fractures, replaced by a radiant, blinding joy. Before I can even register the shift, she moves. Romy drops the water bottle to the couch beside her and tackles me. The force of her movement makes me scramble to switch places with her, and thankfully, she had the forethought to finish her drink, or we’d be sitting in water. She straddles my thighs, and her sundress hikes up, showing me her smooth, delicious, creamy skin.
“I love you.” Her arms lock around my neck, her body pressing as flush against me as she can get with her swollen with my baby stomach. “I love you, and you’re not your father. You’re nothing like him, and I know you’ll do anything in your power to be anything short of amazing.” She cries against my lips, her voice a beautiful, chaotic mix of tears and happiness.