Page 132 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

“I understand.”

At last, she looks back up at me.

“But I promise you this: I’ll do everything I can to earn your trust again.”

The tension between us finally softens a little.

After that conversation, we grab snacks and settle in front of a Netflix series.

I couldn’t tell you what’s playing on the screen.

The only thing that matters to me is her presence against mine. The simple fact that she’s here.

I’m almost starting to believe the conversation is behind us when she suddenly murmurs:

“The next time you deliberately try to hurt me... your boxing lessons won’t do you any good against me.”

I turn to look at her, surprised.

“Excuse me?”

A slow smile curves her lips, and I understand.

“You heard me perfectly, Dante Ivanov.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No. I’m making you a promise.”

I pretend to shiver.

“All this violence... I love it.”

A laugh escapes her before she lightly punches me in the shoulder.

I laugh too and pull her a little closer against me.

“Careful. I might start to enjoy it.”

33. The Christmas Market

Valeria

Saturday, December 24

Once again, I fell asleep in Dante’s arms.

When I wake up, he’s still asleep.

Morning light slides across his features. At rest, he seems calmer. More peaceful. And yet, despite that, a tension still lingers beneath the surface, as though he’s incapable of ever fully letting his guard down.

He’s changed.

Grief transformed him.

Before, he used to be more spontaneous. More carefree.

Now he’s more serious. More intense. His movements are more measured, less instinctive. His laughter comes more rarely. And his protective side surfaces more strongly now, sometimes bordering on controlling.