Page 170 of Delicate Storm

“I’m not leaving, Easton, and I’m not Macy. I want to be with you, more than anything. But I can’t be the reason you lose him.”

“So you care about Isaac?”

“Of course I do. I—”

“And you want to protect him?”

“Yes. How could you even ask me that? All of this is forhim. And you. I’m a mess. You both deserve so much better and—”

“Do you think you could ever love him?” He cuts me off again, stepping closer, staring at me pointedly. “Like your own.”

I pause, though I don’t have to think about my answer. “I already love him, Easton. I don’t think I’ve ever given a bigger piece of my heart to anyone before. And I’m not even sorry that it’s him and notyou. I love you, Easton. I’m more in love with you than I ever thought possible. But Isaac… I’d choose him over you. Any day of the week. I love you both.”

Easton sucks in a breath, his eyes glistening with tears before he wipes them away and clears his throat. “How can you walk away if you feel all that? How can you break both our hearts when that one little statement just erasedyearsof pain and fear for me?”

“Because if I don’t, those fears could become a reality.”

“But they might not. We could be happy. We could be a family.”

“Easton—”

“Don’t run. Please. Let’s fight this together.”

My breath hitches, and all my resolve disintegrates as his words penetrate my heart, the fight leaving me. “I wasn’t going to run,” I whisper, certain that if I spoke out loud my voice would crack. “I had the chance to go this morning. But I stayed. I can’t be away from you. Even if I am ruining your life.”

“You’re not ruining our lives, Paige. I may not know what the future will bring, and God knows it feels like the world is againstus, but our lives are significantly better with you in them. And I don’t want to find out what it would be like without you.”

My eyes water again, and this time I allow the tears to fall. With Easton it feels easier to show my emotion. “Okay,” I whisper through the tears. “Okay.”

“Thank God.” Easton sighs as he reaches forward and pulls me into his arms, holding me close before releasing me. “A little part of me wants to tie you up and punish you for eventhinkingabout running. But I also want to lock you in my arms and tell you it’s all going to be okay. Because it is. I won’t let this end any differently. I can’t. We both need you too much.”

“I’m so scared, Easton.”

“I know. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you or Isaac.” He grabs my chin and tilts my head up until I’m looking at him. “Ever. You got that?”

“Yes.” I nod softly, a genuine smile finally gracing my lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He takes my lips in a gentle kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead to mine. “Can we go and celebrate Thanksgiving now? I know a little boy that will be over the moon to see you.”

Just like that. He’s ready to begin our lives together. And so should I be. “Of course.” I press another chaste kiss to his lips, my mind still reeling. “Just let me get changed.”

While my fears haven’t lessened, I couldn’t say no. I love them both too much. We still have a long road ahead of us with Macy and the Mikklesons. I just have to pray it all goes our way.

With my heart full, but my stomach still in knots, I quickly get ready, already guilty enough without adding the fact that Easton’s currently away from his family on this special day.

After cursing to myself, I put on a smile and lighten the mood. “If only I had a quiet life,” I call out as I’m walking down the hallway. “Then no one would care. There’d be no articles aboutme, no photographers wanting to cash in on me falling apart. No threats from asshole billionaires. But who am I if I’m not socialite Paige D’Angelo?”

I laugh, stepping into the living room to find Easton, his brows furrowed, running his finger along a sketch I did of Isaac. “You’re an artist,” he whispers in awe and I cringe.

“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see that.” I rush over to take the sketch from his hands, but he stands up and holds it out of reach.

“This is amazing, Paige. If I wasn’t looking at it closely, I’d swear it was a photo. The details. The likeness. The shading. It’s…no,you’reincredible.”

“It’s nothing. I was just messing around and—”

“Nothing? Are you kidding me? Why are you hiding these away? Have you done any more?”

My heart races as he hits me with so much wonderment that it makes me squirm. I have done more. So many. But I never planned on anyone seeing them. It’s my escape, my solace.

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