Page 168 of The Bad Husband

“I need to get out of these clothes and take a shower first,” he says as if he knows what goes through my mind.

“Your men are around the corner.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we walk down the street, his lips in my hair, telling little stories from those times when we couldn’t be together.

Later in the afternoon, we’re back at my place. We eat cupcakes in bed and drink wine, carols playing on TV.

His body is a work of art.

He’s spent all that time in jail doing pushups, I suspect. He’s muscular and has an edge to him he didn’t have before, but there’s also more softness in his heart.

Something I haven’t felt before.

“So, are you gonna show me my gift?” he asks as I lean my head against his chest.

I smile.

“Did you get me anything?” I ask with humor.

His answer arrives swiftly.

“I actually did. You want to see it?”

I push upright and look at him.

“It? What are you talking about?”

He slides to the edge of the bed and reaches for his jacket on the floor.

From inside his jacket, he extracts a jewelry box.

“Damon?”

He laughs.

“Lila? Will you marry me?” he asks, casually, opening the jewelry box and revealing a diamond ring.

I gasp.

“You are serious,” I murmur.

“What did I say in my note?”

“You weren’t very specific.”

“I did it on purpose,” he says, sliding the ring onto my finger.

It looks magnificent. I peer at it and then at him.

“We never talked about marriage.”

“Is that a yes?” he says, in a good mood.

“You’re unrelenting.”

He gives me a kiss, sliding a leg over me, locking me in.

“I’m not. I’m a man who lost two years he could’ve spent with the woman he loved because he made a mistake and married a different woman out of revenge. I made a mistake once. I won’t do it again. My lawyers have already drafted a prenup, so we won’t have to talk about money and properties, and who gets what if we split up. You agree with it, sign on the dotted line, and we’re good. And speaking about money. I’ve heard that Henrietta had a bad day in court.”