Page 60 of The Love Language of the Cartel

“Fear,” I responded matter-of-factly. “Loving you . . . loving El Diablo . . . it scares the living shit out of me.” I watched his expression teeter between comfortable and not, and I continued on before he had the chance to respond. “And although we both have flaws, I think we can work on them together. I want this to work,” I said, reaching for his hand. “Us, Ozias. I want us to work,” I clarified, my voice rooted in certainty despite the charge of emotions surging through my body. “I want to stay Mrs. Ozias Rivera forever. To be your queen. To really see where things can go and not because of the fucked-up circumstances, or revenge, or sex, or grief, or obligation, but because I’m choosing to be your queen and want you to be my king.”

The car fell silent for a short while as I tried to read Ozias’s mind. Visually, he seemed taken aback as if my confession had literally taken his breath away. Then, without a warning or word, he leaned in and gently cupped the sides of my face in his hands. His brown-eyed gaze was trained on mine with an intensity so hot that it sent a rush of heat pooling right to my sweet spot.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words. The world is already mine, but I need you to make it all worth it. You’re my purpose and my reason. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to save a space for me in your heart.”

“You don’t need a space. You already have it all.”

He reeled me in for a long hug, and a smile broke through the fresh tears that were at risk of falling down my face again. For the first time in a long time, I was exactly where I was supposed to be—safe in Ozias’s arms.

“You meant what you said about being mine forever?”

“Yes.”

“Then forever it is,mi amor,” he murmured before pressing his lips against mine in a searing kiss that held all the passion, solace, and affection we’d both been holding back. “Forever it is.”

Epilogue

Ozias

Six months later.

My heavy eyelids flickered before slowly lifting to put a face to the soft melody of Demi’s delicate voice as she sang “Happy Birthday” to me once in English and again in Spanish.

It was my thirty-seventh birthday—another year I thought I might never see.

My grin spread wide across my face as I rubbed my eyes, hoping to see her more clearly. Demi sat perched on the edge of the bed, looking like an angel in a baby pink teddy, her dark hair swept up into a high messy bun. In her hand was a red velvet cupcake with a single gold candle flickering at the top. It was my favorite flavor, of course. Over the time we’d been together, she’d made a habit of remembering the simple things about me.

“Go ahead and make a wish, birthday boy,” she encouraged with a hint of playfulness behind her eyes.

I propped myself up on my elbows, lightly smirking as I watched the candle’s flame dance between us before closing my eyes, making a wish, and blowing it out.

“Aren’t you going to take a bite?”

I licked my lips. “As good as you look right now, the only sweetness I want on my tongue is you.”

Demi playfully rolled her eyes. “Later for that. Tell me what you wished for,” Demi insisted.

I belted out a soft chuckle while leaning in to close the space between us. “I would, but if I tell you, it won’t come true. Ain’t that rule number one when it comes to birthday wishes?”

The sweet sound of her carefree laugh filled the room, sounding and feeling like a warm hug. “Okay. That’s fair,” she said. “Are you ready for your birthday gift?”

I arched a questioning brow. “I thought I told you I didn’t want you buying me anything.”

“I know what you said, but who said I bought anything?” Demi replied, her expression softening, although the mischievous expression on her face remained.

“What?”

“I kept asking myself, what do you get a man who could literally buy anything he wants? And then, this happened,” she bellowed, handing me a skinny box with a red bow wrapped around it.

By that point, she had my full attention. I sat up, intrigued, and eased the box from her hand, slowly pulling apart the ribbon with care. When I opened the lid, my breath hitched. Staring back at me were three pregnancy tests, each with two bold positive pink lines. For a moment, all I could do was stare at them while my heart hammered against my ribcage.

“Demi,” I whispered as my gaze pulled away from the sticks to meet hers. I witnessed the same blend of happiness and shock looking back at me.

“We did it, O. I’m pregnant,” she announced, her voice slightly shaking with a rollercoaster of emotion. “It’s a miracle.”

My heart somersaulted in my chest. She was right. It was an absolute miracle. I was so taken aback I couldn’t even find the right words to say to commemorate the moment. So, instead, I reached for Demi and pulled her into my arms, squeezing her as tightly as I could without hurting her. The future I’d pushed to the back of my mind, never allowing myself to dream about, had suddenly become my reality in the blink of an eye. Everything felt perfect and so surreal at the same time.

“Happy birthday, Ozias,” she whispered against my bare shoulder before kissing it.

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