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"From now on, you are mine." He had never imagined he could be this possessive about a woman, but claiming Betsy was suddenly the only thing that mattered. "Do you understand?"
"Y-Yes."
"Then say it," Lukas urged her. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours," Betsy whispered. "I've always wanted to be yours—-"
Lukas groaned as the sweetness of her words overpowered his self-control.
His mouth covered hers in an instant, and he felt more than heard her whimper against his lips as his tongue stroked in to mate with hers. Her body buckled violently against his when he started sucking on her tongue, but just as her nails dug hard into the broad slopes of his shoulders—-
A cry pierced their ears.
And Betsy wanted to cry again when Lukas immediately ended their kiss and carefully pulled away.
A wry smile curved over Lukas' lips when he saw the look on Betsy's face. "It is also because of how you are as a mother to your son that I want to marry you. "
Her lips parted, but she was crying so hard that speaking simply became impossible.
Thank You, thank You, thank You.
Someone once told Betsy how God didn't just listen to prayers that fell past people's lips. There were also prayers that people's hearts moaned and cried about—-prayers that one didn't either know how to express or did not believe they deserved to ask for.
She had never understood what that meant—-until now.
All Betsy had heard since giving birth to D were sighs of pity and dismay.
It was as if everyone saw her son as someone Betsy shouldregret.
It was as if everyone believed that her son had ruined her life.
And it hurt.
It had hurt to see people think of him as a mistake when all she saw was her greatest treasure.
It was only now that Betsy realized her every moment of despair was not in vain.
All that time, her soul was also silently crying out to God for someone to see what she saw in D.
Feel what she felt for her son.
And that was Lukas.
Her answered prayer.
Chapter Twelve
LUKAS STOOD BY THE doorway and watched Betsy lift her son into his arms before settling into the oversized armchair next to the windows. The sheer gravity of what he had just committed himself to hit him as a now-blushing Betsy started breastfeeding her son.
This woman would soon be his wife, and her son would be his son as well.
He waited for panic and regret to storm his thoughts at the realization, but the emotions that had his chest so damn tight were completely different.
My wife.
My son.
It was all he could think about as he watched Betsy's son suckle hungrily on his mother's breast. The bond between the two was unmistakable, and Lukas' resolve only strengthened when he thought of how that bond would someday include him.
