Page 136 of Wild Tangled Hearts

My mom listens attentively, her eyes filled with compassion and understanding. As I finish, she wraps her arms around me in a comforting embrace. “Oh, darling,” she murmurs, “I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

I bury my face in her shoulder, tears flowing freely now. “I don’t know what to do, Mom. I’m so scared. I love him so much, but this feels like a weight I can’t bear.”

“Sweetheart, love is complicated, and life often throws unexpected challenges at us,” she gently says, offering reassurance. “It’s clear that you care deeply for Sebastian, and he cares for you, too. Sometimes, love means facing these difficulties together.”

I pull away, looking into her eyes, seeking guidance. “But what if I can’t handle it? What if I’m not strong enough?”

My mom smiles softly, wiping away a tear from my cheek. “You’re stronger than you think.” She hugs me tighter. “You’ll find the strength you need. Love has a way of helping us rise above the challenges that come our way. Just remember, Dad and I are here for you, always.”

She’s right. I can’t let fear paralyze me. In all the uncertainty, I hold on to one truth like a lifeline — I love Sebastian, and he loves me.

As I drive, I call him, and his voice fills the car’s interior as he answers.

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Are you at home?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, his tone subdued. “Do you want to come over?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. We need to talk.”

There’s a brief silence on the line, followed by a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

When I step off the elevator, he strides towards me, his dark eyes searching mine with a mix of emotions. Without a word, he pulls me close to his chest, and I melt into his embrace, surrendering to the comforting warmth of his body. He presses his lips tenderly against the top of my head, and for that moment, all worries and uncertainties seem to fade.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He relaxes slightly at those words. But when I pull back and look up at him, I see doubt flickering across his expression. His brows are drawn down, and his features are strained.

I gently cup his face in my hands. “And I missed you this week. I hate being away from you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I press my fingers to his lips to silence him.

“I love you,” I say again. Needing him to not only hear the words but believe them.

He rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closing briefly as if searching for the right words. “I don’t want you to wake up one day, five, ten years from now, and resent me. To regret being with me. This disease, it’s not fair—”

“You’re right,” I interrupt, filled with determination. “It’s not fair. It sucks. And I wish that you didn’t have to suffer with it. But it’s part of who you are. Loving you means accepting everything about you. I know there will be bad days. And I know I still have a lot to learn about the disease. But I won’t let fear stop me from loving you.”

His fingers tangle in my hair, and I can see a war raging in his eyes. He shakes his head, clearly conflicted. “Bella—”

“Do you love me?” I interrupt, searching his gaze for an answer.

His response comes without hesitation. “You know I do.”

I nod, my resolve growing stronger with each passing moment. “I’m not naïve to think that’s all that matters. Buteveryrelationship takes work. It involves making compromises and facing challenges together. My only fear is losing you, and that’s what would happen if I walked away now.”

He hesitates, his body tense, but then he clings to me as if I’m his lifeline. I feel the weight of his emotions in that embrace, the relief that I won’t abandon him, and the depth of our connection.

Tentatively, his lips brush mine, as if he’s testing the waters of his own emotions. His breathing is unsteady, and I can sense the turmoil within him. Then, in an instant, his restraint shatters, and his mouth crashes into mine with a kiss that’s feral and consuming.

It’s as if all the pent-up emotions he’s been holding back flood through him, and he pours them into our kiss. His desperation mingles with passion, and our lips move together hungrily, seeking solace and reassurance in each other’s embrace.

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping my face, his voice cracking as he says, “Marry me.”

“What?” I whisper, needing confirmation of this life-altering request.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes locked onto mine as he asks again, “Marry me, Bella. Be my wife.”

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