Page 189 of Marrying the Savage

“Sofia,” he says after a long moment.

I know that tone. He wants the truth. But not about anything that happened outside this room. Something else. Something he felt when I felt it.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling because looking at him is too dangerous.

“What?” I ask.

He lifts himself enough to see my face. “Something changed.”

My laugh comes out too quiet and too unsteady. “You are very annoying.”

“Yes.”

“And arrogant.”

“Yes.”

“And old.”

His mouth tightens. “Careful.”

“And impossible.”

“Yes.”

I turn my head then. He’s looking at me like he has no interest in any lie I might tell, which is unfair because lying has been my only stable skill for years.

I touch his face before I can stop myself. His expression stills.

The words are right there.

I love you.

I don’t say them. I can’t.

Not yet.

But he sees too much anyway. His hand covers mine against his cheek, and for once, he doesn’t push either. He doesn’t demand. He doesn’t force the name of it out of me just because he knows it’s there.

He only turns his mouth into my palm.

“I’m taking you to the doctor in the morning,” he says.

I stare at him. Then I laugh, actually laugh, because of course that’s what he says after sex that just rearranged something vital inside my chest.

“You are unbelievable.”

“You will go.”

“I might bite the doctor.”

“I will warn him.”

“I might bite you.”

His eyes drop to my mouth. “That would not be new.”

My body responds even though I’m exhausted. I kiss my husband again, and this time I let the truth stay inside me without running from it.