Page 190 of Rebound
I've had a mild concussion before. It's something I can deal with. Dr. Goldberg recommends that Roman be transported to the hospital for an MRI. He doesn't want to take any chances and neither do I. After four long hours the doctors at the hospital also confirm that Roman only has a mild concussion.
As he walks out to the waiting room, a couple of nurses ask for his autograph. He's almost shy about it like it’s not something he's used to. A part of me loves that he doesn't take this all for granted and the other part wishes that he would because he's amazing and he’s worked hard for this.
“For two days, you’re all mine,” I say, as we get in the car. “I'm going to bar the door so no one can come in.”
“Are you going to kidnap me, Blossom?” Roman asks with amusement.
“If that's what I have to do. No more excitement for at least two days.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I can use a little less excitement in our lives right now,” Roman agrees.
I drive us home to our cats.
FIFTY-SIX
LAVINIA
“Will you tell me what your tattoos mean?” I ask.
Roman is lying on his back on our bed with my head resting on his bare chest. I'm making mindless circles on his unmarked skin. It's been two days of nothing, but this. The blinds have been closed, the door has been shut, phones have been turned off. Only the cats are allowed in and out of the room.
Roman's fingers are in my hair, massaging my scalp gently.
“Which ones?” Roman asks.
“All of them. Any of them.” I just want to hear his voice.
“You're going to think it's crazy, but most of them are for you.”
Surprised, I lift my head off his chest to look at him. He’s looking at me almost nervously. He has nothing to be nervous about.
I mean, he brought presents for me and kept them locked away until the day I could open them. If there’s one thing I know about my husband, it’s that I’m never far from his mind.
“You got tattoos for me?”
Roman raises his hand, brushing the back of his fingers along my jaw. “You’re a part of me, and I wanted to make sure that it was visible.”
I rest my chin on his chest, staring up at him. Sometimes, my mind refuses to believe that he’s real and here. It isn’t enough that he loves me, he has to love me more than anyone else in the world. And he says I’m competitive.
I run a finger over his brows, tracing it down to his nose and cheekbones. “Let me get this straight. On your travels you bought presents for me because I was never far from your mind. You have permanently marked your body for me. And it took you our entire lives till now to tell me you love me?”
Roman laughs, the sound vibrating through me.
“I had to make sure we were both ready. For a long time, I believed that I didn’t deserve you. I believed that you would be better off with someone whose family wasn’t a mess and hadn’t filled his head with thoughts that he was better off alone. When I gave myself to you, I wanted to make sure that it was a whole, and not a damaged half.”
Tears prickle at my eyes and choke my throat. How can anyone look at him and think that everything he’s accomplished in his life belongs to them? I’m not talking about his career and everything that he’s accomplished in the NHL. I’m talking about his heart. His kindness. His parents can’t claim any of that.
“I love you so much,” I say, my voice warbling with tears. “As someone who’s known you our whole lives, I can tell you that you were never damaged. You should only trust my opinion.”
Roman brushes my hair back and tucks it behind my ear. “Being around you healed me. If you leave me now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive.” He swallows thickly, his eyes clouded with emotions.
As if I'm ever going to leave him. “You are Roman Maddox Callahan, you can’t be Bruno Mars asking for some morphine. It doesn’t suit you.”
Roman chuckles, shifting down to give me a kiss. He describes his tattoos for me.
“The cherry blossom tree is because they are your favorite and you always smell like cherry blossoms. This red ribbon because you always used to wear them in your hair. This cluster of dots on my right shoulder is the same as the freckles you have on your right shoulder, it looks like a constellation.”
I brush my fingers over the tattooed freckles on his shoulder. Now that I know what they represent, I can see that they do match the freckles I have on my shoulder.
