Page 134 of The Broken Heart Playlist
“Don’t break my heart again and you’ll be okay.”
He briefly closes his eyes, as if in pain. “Don’t even joke about that. I’ll regret hurting you for the rest of my days.”
“You’ll have to spend the rest of your days making it up to me.”
“Gladly.”
He captures my face in his hands and stares into my eyes.
Gideon’s love for me doesn’t feel like Oliver’s love. Or rather, Oliver’s twisted version of it. Being loved by Oliver was like treading water in a turbulent sea, where you’re desperatelytrying to stay afloat as you’re tossed to and fro, sinking beneath the waves sometimes out of sheer exhaustion.
Gideon’s love is not the ocean, but the lighthouse. It’s a love that offers shelter and protection. It’s a haven for Lisset and me where we can weather the storms life tosses at us. A solid, safe, steady love that still has the ability to steal my breath away.
EPILOGUE
GIDEON
Eighteen months later...
I can’t get over how magnificent Kate looks against the backdrop of an endless Italian sky as she stares up at the giant rollercoaster. Her face is luminescent, her hair a rich espresso tumble of curls softly framing her heart-shaped face. Adventure lights up her dark eyes as she contemplates the track’s steep slopes and sharp curves.
A mild feeling of nausea swells inside me every time I look at the rollercoaster so I’m focusing on Kate. My eyes linger on the sweet curve of her lips, so lush and full. She’s slicked on red lipstick, probably to torment me.
“Hey, Big Boy, eyes up here.”
I direct my best frown her way. “I object. Big Boy feels, um, objectifying. I’ll be happy withSir. EvenYour Magnificencewill do, if you’re really stuck.”
She shakes her head at my teasing. “Careful, a few other names are springing to mind, and I doubt you’ll like any of them.” She goes up on her tiptoes and plants a soft kiss on my lips, resting her palms on my chest. “What aboutHusband? Is that more to your liking?”
“I like the sound ofHusband,” I murmur, “because it’s so accurate,Wife.”
My arms close around her and something sweet and tender unrolls in my chest. This beautiful, brave, challenging, andsometimes maddening woman is mine for all of my todays and tomorrows.
Once upon a time, she was a woman in a photo who captured my attention and then captured my heart.
We were married almost a year ago. I wasted no time asking her to marry me and our engagement period was mercifully short. There was no way I was suffering through a long engagement. Not when I’d endured four seasons of waiting for her to fall in love with me.
Also, I didn’t want to take the chance I’d do something monumentally stupid and risky again. Like concealing my identity. And hiding my past.
Our relationship started in secrets and lies, but we clawed our way back from that bleak beginning.
When I think of how close I came to losing her, I have to stop for a moment and remain perfectly still, as if the smallest movement has the power to rewind time and catapult me back to the moment Kate discovers the photo, but this time she won’t hear me out and she won’t forgive me and nothing I do or say can change her mind.
I don’t deserve her forgiveness, but she’s given it to me. And I’m so unbelievably grateful that if I have to spend the next twenty, thirty, forty years groveling, I’ll do it.
“Will you wear a dress to dinner tonight?” I ask.
“Why?”
I smile. “They’re easy access. Saves me the trouble of dealing with buttons.”
She whacks my arm, all mock outrage. “Gideon!”
“Hey, you’re my wife. But I’m also a guy and we’re sometimes shallow.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Sometimes?”
“Did you pack my favorite outfit?” I ask hopefully. She knows exactly which one I mean. When Kate is meeting a particularlydifficult client, she wears her don’t-mess-with-me outfit, a black tank top and black cargo pants. Which I’m a total sucker for.
