by Nikki Ash
I glance over at him and think about what he said to me earlier when he asked me to move in: I know him better than anyone. Why did I tell him no to living together? Because I don’t know enough about him? Do you ever really fully know someone? And isn’t that the point of living with someone, to share your life with them? Get to know more about them every day.
My thoughts go back to Stephen. I thought I knew everything about him and never knew he had a gambling addiction. I’ve known my mom my entire life and never knew she was keeping secrets. What I do know, though, is that life is too short and I promised Stephen I would live hard and love harder, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“I’ll move in with you.” Ethan glances over at me before looking back out at the dark road ahead. “When I’m safe and it’s time to leave the beach house, I’ll move in with you.”
His lips curl into a beautiful grin, and he takes my hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth. “Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing the tops of my knuckles. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”
But I think I know, because for the first time in my life, I realize I’m no longer just surviving, getting through each day, but instead actually living. My heart feels full and content—I feel happy.
Over the next month, Ethan and I settle into a comfortable routine. During the day, we spend a lot of time together. Some days, it’s as simple as lounging around the house with his mom and dad, and others, he surprises me with trips. He makes it a point to get several items from my list checked off. We visit the local aquarium and swim with dolphins, go to the shooting range, where he teaches me how to shoot a gun, and one night after coming home from the club, he brings home a joint. It only takes a couple hits for me to get high and turn into a giggling mess. Ethan cracks up, thinking I’m hilariously entertaining, and tells me he may have to bring home another joint in the future so he can be entertained again.
At night, he goes to the club. Sometimes I go with him, but more often than not, I stay home. My headaches tend to be worse at night, so I use the time he’s at work to rest. By 2:00 a.m. he crawls into bed. Most nights when he gets home, I’ll wake up and we’ll talk. I think it’s Ethan’s way of us getting to know each other. He’ll ask me questions and tell me about himself. Talking almost always leads to kissing and fooling around, but Ethan never lets it go too far, always stopping things before we cross that imaginary line. Sometimes I argue, other times I pout, but no matter what, he never gives in. He tells me I’ll regret it and then holds me close while I lay my head on his chest and fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat.
Blaire and Victor have come over on several occasions to barbeque and go swimming. She’s officially moved out of the condo and is planning their wedding. Since I’ve agreed to move in with Ethan, he had the stuff I need brought here, and what I don’t need, brought to his place. I haven’t been to his home yet, but I think he’s waiting to bring me once I’m safe and we’re able to move in.
My mom and I haven’t spoken at all. She’s called me and left messages, but I’m not ready to deal with her yet. I know when I do decide to talk to her, I’m going to demand she explain what Stephen said to me, and no matter which way she goes, whether she tells the truth or lies, my life—our life—will be forever changed.
Then one day, while I’m lying in bed, resting, our comfortable routine is broken. Raquel knocks on my door and tells me Ethan had to go away. Confused, I sit up and ask, “Why?”
“I’m not sure, sweetie. He asked me to let you know that he’ll be home as soon as he can. He also asked that you not leave while he’s gone.”
“Do you know how long he’ll be gone for?”
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t.” She walks over and gives my forehead a kiss. “Andrew and I are here if you need anything.”
The first night he’s gone, I have trouble falling asleep. I toss and turn, coming up with worst-case scenarios. My heart hurts in his absence, and eventually I cry myself to sleep.
The second night, I do something I haven’t done since Stephen died: I pray—for Ethan to be safe and come home to me.
The third night, I let my insecurities get the best of me and assume the worst. I call Blaire in tears, worried Ethan has left me for someone else. She, of course, tells me I’m being ridiculous and that Ethan loves me. When I mention we’ve never said the words, she tells me she doesn’t need him to say them to know he’s in love with me.
The fourth night, I get mad. “What is he doing that he can’t even pick up the phone and call me one single time?” I ask Raquel over dinner. “Does he not care that I’m worried and freaking out?”
Andrew and Raquel make eye contact and something tells me they know more than they’re telling me. No longer hungry, I excuse myself and go to bed early.
I’m sleeping fitfully when strong arms wrap around me from behind. I scream, startled, and turn around, to find the strong arms belong to Ethan. Seeing his perfect face, I lose it. I go from crying, to yelling, to sobbing, and the entire time he doesn’t say a word, just holds me patiently, until I finally stop, giving him a chance to speak.
“Logan and Felix have been taken care of,” he says. “You’re safe.”
It takes me a second for the words to sink in, but once they do, I gasp. “You killed them?”
I should be upset, disgusted at what he’s done, but the only emotion I feel is relief. I was raised to believe that the killing of a person is one of the most grievous sins, but as I look into Ethan’s eyes, all I feel is warmth toward him. And I realize in this moment, the love I feel for him overpowers anything else. My feelings for him are strong and unwavering, and he could tell me anything and it wouldn’t change how I feel because I love him wholly and completely, without judgement.
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” I tell him truthfully. “I don’t want to know.” I pull him over me and thread my fingers through his hair. He hovers above me, his hands resting on either side of my head. “I love you, Ethan. Thank you for saving me.” I pull his mouth down to mine and kiss him hard, trying to convey every emotion I’m feeling.
He kisses me back, but when things start to progress, heating up, he pushes off me and sits up. “You assume I killed two men and in response, you tell me you love me?” he questions, his face marred in confusion.
“I do love you. I don’t agree with killing them, but I know you did it to protect me.” He told me he would make sure to protect me, to put me first, and I knew after what happened to Kelsi and their baby, he would stop at nothing to make sure I’m safe. “I love you so much.”
Ethan shakes his head. “I didn’t kill them, Nevaeh.”
When I give him a perplexed look, he says, “I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I want to be a better man for you. I want to be worthy of your love.” He kisses my lips softly.
“Then what did you do?”
“I did something I swore I would never do… I went to the police.”
Ethan
Five Days ago
“You’re doing the right thing, Son,” my dad says to me. “I’m proud of you.”
We’re sitting in the office of the U.S. Attorney, waiting to be told what the next step is. When I told my dad about Logan and Felix, expecting him to tell me to kill them both, he shocked the hell out of me when he said he thought I should go to the police. I realized he really was changing for my mom, to be a better man for her, and I knew I wanted to do the same thing for Nevaeh.
And so I did what he suggested and went to the police. Turns out the U.S. Attorney’s office was already building a case against Felix and while they were close to putting him away, they weren’t close enough—which was why he was still out there, sliding under the radar by having assholes like Logan doing his dirty work for him. After meeting with the U.S. Attorney, a plan was formed, which would take down not only Felix, but Logan as well—ensuring Nevaeh would be safe.
Over the next month, I focused on Nevaeh during the day, and at night, when I wasn’t
working with the U.S. Attorney to take Logan and Felix down, I was working on legalizing my business, including nixing the illegal gambling and underground fighting. It would mean taking a huge cut in profit, but with all the investments I’ve made over the years, I would be okay, and Nevaeh and I would still be able to live a more than comfortable life.
My dad was in the same boat as me. He made deals with men who were interested in taking over his various operations, and when we were both done, what was left were several clubs and hotels and casinos that we would make sure remained successful—legally.
In exchange for working with the U.S. Attorney, he agreed to grant my father and me immunity. Turns out, while we might’ve had the local police in our pocket, the big dogs were slowly building a case on us. The U.S. Attorney shared that through their investigation of Logan, they became more than aware of our years of illegal activity. Maybe not right away, but eventually they would’ve taken us down. Before I agreed to work with them, I required his promise in writing, and he came through.
“Mr. Romero,” U.S. Attorney, Dan Wade, says, sauntering through the door and shaking my hand. “Are you ready to bring these pieces of shit down?”
While my dad goes home to make sure my mom and Nevaeh are safe, I spend the next several days going over the plan with the FBI. Bottom line, I needed to make Logan believe I was going to agree to sell Nevaeh. They had received intel he was holding several women for Felix and the transfer was going down in a few nights. All they needed was for me to get verbal confirmation and to lead them to where they were holding the women, so the arrests could be made.
Because Logan was desperate for Nevaeh, and not the sharpest tool in the shed, he agreed all too easily. When I showed up—with an FBI agent who was disguised to look like Nevaeh—they were right. Logan was there with Felix and the women they were preparing to ship overseas to sell.
Logan yelled and screamed, pissed I threw him under the bus, while Felix kept his mouth shut. He was a skinny Hispanic man in his forties, and I would always remember the amused look on his face when he locked eyes with me and winked. At the time I chalked it up to him being in denial, being cocky. I was too stuck on Nevaeh being safe to think about it any deeper than that. I believed the U.S. Attorney when he told me he had it in the bag.
I would later find out, though, that bag he was holding, had a huge hole in the bottom.
Nevaeh
The second Ethan is done telling me what he did to make me safe, I’m on him, needing to be close to him, needing to touch him and kiss him and make love to him. I’m in shock and awe at what he’s done for me, and not just risking everything to bring Logan and Felix down, but also legalizing his businesses. I’ve learned from being with Ethan, his love is shown through his actions. It’s easy to say the words, but Ethan shows me every day in some way or another how much he cares about me, how much I mean to him. He puts me first and loves me with his entire being.
At first, Ethan goes with the flow and I think he’s going to finally give in and give me what I want—all of him. He kisses me back and lets me remove his shirt and then his pants. But when I attempt to lower my pants, he stops in his place.
“Nevaeh,” he groans, knowing all too well where I’m heading. “No.” He kisses me softly, trying to lighten the blow, but it still hurts.
“Ethan, please,” I beg. “I love you and I want you to make love to me.”
“Not until marriage,” he argues, peppering kisses along the flesh of my collarbone.
“Aren’t you the one who told me there’s more to life than that list?” I say, throwing back the words he said to me last week when he joined me for a shower and I mentioned it was too bad we couldn’t consider it rain, so I could check off getting kissed in the rain. He laughed and told me if I keep living my life by that list, I’m going to miss all the amazing moments that aren’t on it.
Ethan chuckles. “Twisting my words isn’t going to make me change my mind.” He kisses my forehead. “Waiting to make love to you until marriage isn’t about your list. It’s about your beliefs. You’re letting your hormones take over, but I know you and I know after we make love, you will regret not waiting.”
“That’s not true.” I huff. “I could never regret making love to you. You’re my forever.”
Ethan’s brows rise to his forehead. “I’m your forever,” he repeats softly, as if he’s in shock I could really want to spend my life with him. I hate that he feels that way, that Kelsi and his mom leaving him has made him insecure. On the outside, he’s strong, but on the inside, he’s vulnerable.
“You know you are,” I tell him truthfully. “I love you and want to spend my life with you.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want, Nevaeh? To spend every day for the rest of your life with me?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately, not needing to think about it. I know it’s what I want. I want Ethan right now and forever.
His eyes light up and his lips curve into a beautiful smile. “I love you, Angel,” he murmurs. “And I’m going to spend the rest of our lives making you happy.”
I grin at his words, thinking he’s going to give in.
“Then make love to me, please. That’ll make me happy.”
He assesses me for a long moment, and whatever he’s looking for, he must find, because he nods once and kisses me passionately.
Nevaeh
Ethan’s tongue glides across my top lip and then my bottom before it delves into my mouth, stroking my own. I moan into his mouth and reach for the button on his pants, needing him to finally be inside me.
He laughs softly, pushing my hand away. “Patience, Mrs. Romero,” he chides playfully. “I told you I’d make love to you and I will, but first I want to explore every inch of my gorgeous wife’s body, starting with her mouth.”
My heart swells. Mrs. Romero. I’m no longer Nevaeh Hansen. I am Nevaeh Romero, Ethan’s wife. My thoughts go back to twelve hours ago when I thought Ethan’s nod meant he was going to give in, only to be reminded of what I already knew, what he’s already proven: Ethan Romero will always put me first—even when I don’t feel like that’s what he’s doing at the time.
Twelve Hours Ago
Ethan devours my mouth for several seconds, efficiently taking my breath away, before he pulls back slightly and rolls onto his side. Confused as to why he’s suddenly stopped when he’s just agreed to make love to me, I glance over at him. His caramel eyes are smooth and shine with the perfect mixture of love and lust, and my heart flutters behind my ribcage. Nobody has ever looked at me the way Ethan does—without even speaking or touching me, he somehow manages to make me feel wanted and cherished, like I’m his entire world.
“Ethan, what’s going on?” I ask, confused, and if I’m honest, a bit impatient.
“I’m going to make love to you, Nevaeh.” He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip. “Every day for the rest of our lives if I have it my way.” His words cause my body to freeze. Luckily, he doesn’t notice.
“Okay…”
“But first I’m going to make you my wife.” He rolls onto his elbow. “Marry me, Angel. I’ll book us a flight to Vegas and we’ll be there in a few hours. Make me the happiest man in the world and become my wife, and then I promise I’ll make love to you, the way it’s supposed to be, as your husband. Every goddamn day for the rest of our lives.”
Tears pricks my eyes. Ethan wants to marry me. He wants to be my husband…for the rest of our lives. Emotion clogs my throat. Can I do that? Can I marry him? Would that be selfish? He’s been through so much. Losing his baby, his fiancée and mom leaving… would marrying him make me a horrible person?
What if I’m honest with him? Would he understand? Would he still want to marry me? He deserves to know the truth. To go into this marriage knowing all the facts.
“I can’t,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.” Tears slide down my cheeks.
“What? Why not?” he asks, hurt evident in his tone.
“
Because you deserve better than me.” I choke out a sob, and he sits up, pulling me into his lap so I’m straddling him.
“I deserve you, baby. What’s going on?”
“I-I haven’t been honest with you,” I admit, closing my eyes in shame at what I’ve kept from him.
“What is it? Whatever it is we’ll deal with it together.”
Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes back up and, looking him in the eyes, I tell him something nobody knows. “I’m going to die.”
His eyes widen in horror and shock, then his brows dip low in confusion. “Nevaeh, you’re going to have to give me more than that. You have my mind wandering to every worst-case scenario. We’re all going to die eventually. That’s how life works…”
“I have a Meningioma tumor. It’s why I get dizzy and lightheaded… have frequent headaches.” I swallow the golf-ball-sized lump in my throat. “I was diagnosed a few years ago. I fell and hit my head and my mom insisted I go to the hospital. When they ran tests, they saw it. Because I was over eighteen, I told them I didn’t want anyone, especially my mother, to know.”
Ethan grips the curves of my hips and squeezes. “Okay, but with all the medicinal advancements, it’s curable, right?”
“At first, the doctor’s recommendation was to keep an eye on it. It was small at the time. He told me if it grows, we’ll go from there.”
“And has it?”
“Yes. When I started experiencing all the symptoms I was told to watch out for, I made an appointment. Dr. Phillips ran new scans and confirmed it. I need to have surgery.”
Ethan releases a harsh breath. “Okay, so that means it’s curable, right? They’ll go in and remove it. When?”