SAINT
My heart is hammering in my chest as I step closer to Emerald. Just being with her makes my heartbeat triple in rate. I’m almost certain my watch is about to start blaring at me that I’m close to cardiac arrest. That’s what Emerald Fiorelli does to me every single damn time she’s near. Whether she’s beating me at chess, stealing my wallet,or just plain stealing my heart.
I cup her face again, relishing the warmth of her skin against my hand.
I close my eyes and press my forehead against hers, taking a deep breath. Eyes opening, I search her green gaze and wait for some sign that I’m about to fuck up the only thing that matters to me. The only thing that’s ever mattered to me since I was five years old.
That lump in my throat grows, and I hear my swallow as I try to find the words to begin apologizing for everything I’ve fucked up with this woman.
“The last seven days were a fucking lifetime without you, Em.”
She tilts her head to one side but says nothing.
“I’m sorry, Em.About everything.”
Still silence from her.
“Look, if you want me to beg, Emerald, I will.”
Her response is immediate. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“Huh? Wait…what?”
“Beg.I want to hear what you have to say, Saint.”
I examine her face, but there isn't the slightest hint of her sunshine smile. She’s fucking serious.Oh fuck.
“I’m waiting,” she says.
“Don’t you think that maybe you’re taking this a little too far, Emerald?” I grit out.
She just pierces me with her gaze.
I drag my hand through my hair. “Look, Emerald, if you want me to beg, I’ll beg. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted in my whole goddamn life, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back.”
She merely continues to stare at me.
Panic is rising in my throat.
But at least I prepared something. That’s me—always thinking ten steps ahead. Always with a plan. Always able to outsmart the other person. But this time, it’s about something a thousand times more important than some kill I’ve got to carry out.
I clear my throat. “I am unworthy of your attention, consideration, and love. I know that you'll probably never forgive me, but I could never live with myself if I didn't tell you today exactly how I feel. My heart has ached so much that I’ve felt like I was bleeding out and inching toward a slow, painful death. Your love is my lifeline. It’s my one and only anchor. It's what makes me breathe. I can't live without you. I’m like a sea without a wave. Oh, er, I mean a wave without, um, a sea?—”
She interrupts with a huff. “Did you get this from a book, Saint?”
“Um, so I’m also not going to lie to you anymore. So…yes, I did get it from a book.”
She narrows her gorgeous green eyes at me.
“Em, I don't apologize very often, so I didn't really know what to say. And as well as negotiating the boutique sale with that old bat, dealing with the district attorney, and bribing the cops, I also had to join a public library and spent ages leafing through God knows how many sappy romance books to find something that was good enough to say to you. I mean, me, Saint Veneti, in a fuckingpublic libraryhaving to read goddamnromance novels?—”
“Saint, here’s an idea. How about just telling me what youreally feel?”
I give my head a little shake as if to clear it. “Okay… So, this is even harder than I imagined. I’m not great at expressing my emotions, only at repressing them and pretending that they don’t happen to me. That’s why I bought you the boutique. That was the only way I could think to show you what you mean to me.”
I pause to take a deep inhale of breath.
“Em, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you after Ronnie’s death and that I was jealous. And I’m so sorry I didn’t stop you from walking out after I found out about the baby because I know I should have told you right there and then what you mean to me. You deserve so much better, and I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you needed from me. That’s totally on me. I’m a fucked up man. But I want to be a better man for you. A man who’s always there for you, for the kids, and for this baby. Because you’re all what matters to me. You’re all what makes me happy. And you’re all what helps me to be a little less fucked up. I’m sorry I made you think that you were only good enough to be my fake fiancée. That was never my intention, and I really messed up. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right at the start that I wasn’t a cop. And that I could play chess. And that I was stalking your chess games so that I could get an unfair advantage. And I’m sorry about stealing Jaspar’s Lucky Charms…”