Page 113 of Clear Shot
Making sure she knows how much I love and cherish her.
“Yes,” she whispers.
And the whole area around us breaks out in applause, cheering like we just won the Stanley Cup or something.
Good grief.
But that’s all just background noise.
Because Hana just put my ring back on her finger and now she’s in my arms, whispering against my ear, “don’t you dare stick your tongue in my mouth until I can brush my teeth.”
I laugh and lightly press my lips against hers. “Deal.”
We kiss—without tongue—long and hard and then I stare into her eyes. “Ready to go home?”
“Yes.”
“Have a wonderful life, you two.” The older woman who followed Hana into the bathroom gives us both a quick little hug and winks. “And I’ll see you at the games after Christmas.”
“What’s your name?” I call to her.
“Loretta Banks.”
“You’ll find a ticket waiting for you at every game, starting after Christmas.”
She waves a hand. “Thank you but I’m good—I have season tickets.”
Then she’s gone and after a few handshakes and congratulations, the crowd starts to disburse.
“Let’s get you home,” I say. “Once your stomach settles, we can talk.”
“Aiden.” She looks into my eyes. “Are you sure? I feel like there was a lot of pressure just now and?—”
I cut her off, pressing my lips to hers again.
“I love you,” I say firmly. “None of that other stuff matters. Do you hear me? Yes, we have some stuff to work through, and I’m going to start therapy again, but as long as we’re together, we can get through anything.”
“I know your depression can be difficult to manage, but you can’t turn on me when you have an episode or whatever. You can’t accuse me of things because you’re scared or go into some dark place.”
“I’ll try not to,” I promise. “That’s why I want to go back to therapy. New coping mechanisms for the new changes in my life. And maybe you can come sometimes too so you can understand a little more about how my brain works. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I can promise to try.”
“I don’t need perfect. I just need to know you won’t ever accuse me of cheating on you because you’re scared or insecure or whatever.”
“That will never happen again.” I put a hand on the side of her face. “I love you so much. I think I always have. And it scared the crap out of me. That’s why, when Jordan said he’d marry you if you needed him to, I knew I had to step in. If you were going to marry someone, even if it was just for a visa, it was going to be me. Somewhere deep in my subconscious, I knew that was the only clear shot I’d have at making you fall in love with me.”
“And look how wrong you were.” She shakes her head.
“I was wrong?” I ask in confusion.
“I wasalreadyin love with you. I just thought you couldn’t love me back so I pretended like we were better as friends.”
“We have some work to do,” I say softly. “I’m just really glad you’re forgiving me.”
“You hurt me,” she admits sadly. “So much. I didn’t know how we could ever fix things.”
“Can we?” I ask, momentarily worried. “I mean, you just said you love me too and?—”
“We have to,” she says simply. “Because I don’t know how to live without you either. I was running away to Slovakia because staying here and not being with you might have destroyed me.”
