The Revenge Plan: An Arranged Marriage Billionaire Romance
Page 25
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you say you wanted a divorce? Now that you have a place of your own, and if you still want to go through with it,” she crossed her arms and looked at me like I had two heads, “You can do it comfortably now. I won’t contest it. Doesn’t mean I want the divorce though.”
“You are a fool,” she still had that puzzled look on her face, “Oh my god, you really are a fool.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Has nothing we’ve done so far, gone through together, showed you anything?” I must have had a dumb look on my face because she said, “I love you, you nitwit!” she punched me in the chest, “I love you so much it hurts!”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You do?”
“Of course I do!” She punched me again, “I’ve always loved you. You’re the one who was slow on the uptake.”
My heart burst open with joy. She loved me. I grabbed her fists and took her into my arms and kissed her. We kissed right there in the hallway of her beach house. The kiss was sweet and full of promise. It made my heart flutter.
A few minutes, and fewer clothes later, we both fell onto her bed and made love. I didn’t know what words expressed my love for her, so I showed her. She came apart in my arms and moments later so did I.
We were lying in each other’s arms when she asked, “So do you love me?” She was looking at her nails like she was asking what time it was.
“Didn’t I say I do?”
“No,” she said, still focused on her nails. Her wedding band glittered in the sunlight streaming in. It gave me pause. Our wedding had been terrible. It was a sham wedding. “We should get married,” I blurt out.
“I thought we already did?”
I took her hand into mine, “For real this time. Here. Just the two of us.”
“Really?” I kissed her hand, lingering on each finger. She made a sharp intake of breath. She was getting aroused, as was I. “About your earlier question.” I said as I moved my mouth from her hand to her wrist, “Yes.”
Her voice was breathy, “yes what?”
“I love you,” I moved up my kisses until I was brushing her lips with mine, “I love you so much it hurts.”
Epilogue
My very pregnant wife came to my study barefoot in a flowy frock with her hands behind her. It was an image I never thought I would see on Hailey and yet she wore it so beautifully. She glowed with a radiance that I had only seen on expectant mothers.
“What’s so funny?” she asked her voice filled with mirth.
“I’m happy,” I said, “I can’t believe what I did to deserve a woman as beautiful as you.”
She snickered, “I’m days from labor. I look like a whale.” Her feet tread slowly into the room until she was standing right before my desk.
I shook my head. “If I had known you looked this good pregnant, I wouldn’t have hesitated putting one in you earlier.”
“Okay, Shakespeare.”
“What? A little crude.”
“A lot crude.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I have something for you.”
I frowned. “What?”
She bit her lip. “I hope you won’t get mad.”
“What is it?”
She moved over to where I was sitting and said, “I never got you a birthday present. I thought I would give you this.” She extended her hands out to me. In them was a scrapbook. My eyes welled when I saw what was written on it: A Compendium of Liam’s Art. I took it with shaky hands and opened it. It was all of Liam’s Polaroids. Each one had a caption beneath it. The same ones he used to put at the back. As I flipped through it, I noticed she had put the photos in chronological order, from the first one he took (the first one I had at least) to the last one. The one with me and Hailey.
“I took the liberty of organizing them. I wanted to make sure that they wouldn’t get lost or something happening to them. If you don’t like it, you can tell me and I’ll put them back where they were. I hadn’t gotten rid of the shoe box yet.”
“Thank you.” My voice cracked.
“You like it?”
“It’s the best gift I’ve ever received.” I got up and took her into my arms. I felt our baby kick as I hugged her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you too,” she said.
The End.
About The Author
Piper Knox
Piper Knox has always had a passion for romance stories ever since she heard her first fairytale. She started writing when she was thirteen and has not stopped. She's fueled by coffee and often distracted by either one of her two cat overlords.
When she’s not writing, she's reading or baking experimental cookies.
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