And I let him. Because he needed it, and maybe I did too. Each pass of his hands reminded me I wasn’t hurt. I was in one piece. Things had been scary at the end, but we’d made it through.
“I could have lost you,” he whispered as if he didn’t want to voice his fear too loudly into the universe.
“We could have lost each other, but we didn’t.” I mirrored the movements he’d just made, squeezing his arms, sides, back, then covered his beating heart with both hands. “We’re both okay. Unscathed.”
He closed his eyes, and twin tears trailed down his cheeks. Rising on my toes, I kissed them away and touched my lips to his.
“I love you so much, Elliot.”
He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around me and pressing his face to my middle. “I love you to the moon, Catherine. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for everything that happened tonight.”
“No, no.” I drove my fingers through his hair and cradled the back of his head against me. “Sometimes, life is crazy and chaotic, and you can’t control it.”
“I want to,” he gritted out.
“Yeah, but let me tell you something. Tonight, when my dad and Gavin were confronting me, my first thought was I had to get to you.” I tangled my fingers in his hair and tugged his head back so he was looking up at me. “You and I can’t control what happens outside of us, but I’ve never been more sure we can handle whatever life throws at us as long as we’re together.”
He exhaled, his eyes lowered to half-mast. “I’m certain of that too, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss below my belly button. “You stole most of the things I wanted to say to you, but I’m relieved to know we agree.”
“What—？”
He reached into the pocket of his joggers and brought out a small, black velvet box. “This was supposed to happen differently, and maybe I should wait, but I can’t.”
I shook my head, my heart slamming in my chest. “No, don’t wait.”
“I’m not.” He flipped the box open, revealing a dazzling diamond on a platinum band. “Catherine Warner, my sweetheart, my love, I will love you with every single breath in this life, and when I go back to the earth with you, I will love you in every flower that blooms, every seed that brings fruit, each gust of wind, drop of rain, and snowflake that falls. Always, Catherine. Always.”
“Always,” I agreed with a fathomless sense of belief. In him, in us, in the life we would have with each other.
“Will you marry me now and love me forever?”
I nodded, a smile sneaking into the corners of my mouth. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes to all of it. As soon as possible.”
“Of course,” he agreed, rising to his feet and taking me in his arms. “Why waste any more time when I could make you mine now?”
“You would never waste time.”
Running his thumb over my ring, he pressed his mouth to mine. “No, I wouldn’t.”
Had to love a man who believed in efficiency.
And I did.
P.S. You’re my forever.
Epilogue
Elliot
Two years later
My head. Jesus Christ, my head.
This barbershop was not getting repeat business. My head was yanked back, and a comb bashed against my forehead.
The barber squealed with delight and climbed on my lap to stand on my legs. Then she dragged her comb through my hair, scraping at my scalp hard enough to draw blood.
And I let her do it without complaint.
How could I not? She was fucking adorable.
Catherine walked by and rubbed the tiny demon barber’s head. “Be gentle with Daddy. He doesn’t know how to say no to you, love, but I think you might be hurting him.”
Joey frowned, her forehead crinkling. She took my face in her sticky little hands. “Hurt, Daddy?”
“A little, baby girl. Just a little.”
She poked her bottom lip out. “I sorry. I be gentle.”
“I know you will.” I held on to her little hips while she balanced on my legs and made a concerted effort to go lighter with the comb. “That’s much better, Jo-Jo.”
“I know. I do good,” she replied, one-hundred-percent sure of herself.
That was what I wanted for my daughter. Always. To be confident and empowered because she had so many people who loved her in her corner, she was able to take chances and be herself without being afraid.
So far, at almost two and a half, Josephine March Levy was living up to her name. Our girl was fierce and bright, rough and tumble, but achingly sweet and empathetic. I didn’t know any other toddlers, but I could say, without a doubt, mine was something special.