Page 135 of Stolen Vows

“Yeah, well I love you too,” she yells back at me. Her eyes are wide as she stares at me without blinking.

The room goes silent.

My pulse pounds in my ears, her words echoing in the sudden, ringing silence between us.

She loves me.

My wife loves me.

How the fuck am I supposed to process this when she’s walking out the goddamn door?

Francesca’s chest heaves with ragged breaths, color high on her cheeks. Her eyes shine with unshed tears and a fierce, burning emotion I’m almost afraid to name.

“You . . .” My voice comes out hoarse, cracking on the single syllable.

She swallows hard, blinking rapidly. “Yes.”

My brain lags, like my system just short-circuited. “What did you just say?” My voice comes out quieter than I expect.

I reach out, my fingers curling around her wrist—not to stop her, not to hold her back, just to ground her. To keep her here.

She exhales sharply, nostrils flaring as she drops her gaze for half a second. Then, she looks me straight in the eye. “I said I love you,” she says, quieter now but no less forceful. Like she needs me to hear it, to believe it.

Jesus fucking Christ. It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s a confession thrown like a grenade. And it rips through me.

My grip tightens on her wrist. “Say it again.”

She huffs a little and rolls her eyes. “How many times do I need to repeat it?”

I lean in and drag my nose along her jawline. “Only every single day for the rest of my life.”

She laughs, tilting her head a little. “And you love me too.”

“Of course I do.” I pull back a little so I can see her face. “I love you. I’ve loved you longer than I had any right to. And I can’t let you go. Iwon’t.”

“But you’re going to let me go to Winthrop Harbor. Because you love me,” she murmurs, placing a soft kiss along the corner of my mouth.

Fuck.

It hits me like a gut punch. This woman, standing in front of me, furious and determined and so goddamn beautiful it hurts, handed me something I didn’t think I’d ever get.

She loves me.

And I’m about to watch her walk out the fucking door.

I lift my other hand, pressing my palm against the side of her neck, my thumb resting just below her jaw. Her pulse is hammering, just as fast as mine.

“You love me,” I murmur, like I’m testing the words on my tongue.

Her eyes flick over my face, like she’s trying to memorize every detail. She nods once. “Yeah. I do.”

I exhale sharply, closing my eyes for half a second. “Then don’t go.”

She presses her lips together, and I already know the answer before she says it. “I have to.”

I hate this. I hate every fucking part of this. That she’s going into something blind. That I can’t be there. That I cannot leave when my system is dark. But I can’t let her go like this either.

I tilt her chin up, making sure she’s looking at me. Seeing me. “Twenty-four hours.” My voice is rough, barely controlled. “I’ll be there in twenty-four hours.”

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