“I guess your therapist knew what she was talking about, huh?” He kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed beside her. “Sometimes the only way to heal is to face what scares us.” He pulled her into his side, careful not to jostle her too much.
He’d almost lost her. The fear ate at him, berated him for failing the one person who had never failed him. She was his to protect, and he’d not been there when she needed him. Becca might not blame him, but it was something that was going to take him a long time to come to terms with.
When Henry told him she was locked in the bathroom and there was the sound of fighting going on, his heart stopped. He’d gotten there as fast as he could, but he’d tortured his legs so much over the last few days, it hadn’t been fast enough. They’d been about to break the door down when she walked out, bloody and swaying.
She fell, and he’d thought she was dead for a minute. Her face had been chalk white with the very red strangulation marks around her throat. It staggered him. Henry had to make him let her go so the EMTs could do their job. The hospital assured him she’d be fine. Her scans came back clean. There was no permanent damage done.
He’d prayed to God for the first time in forever, promising anything and everything if only she’d be okay. When the doctors told him she was going to be fine, he’d sat in the chapel for a long time, thanking God and trying to come to terms with his feelings.
His dad had been right about one thing. The thought of life without Becca was too much; it had brought him to his knees. He knew the love he had for her was the forever kind of love that he wrote about in his books. He was a manwhore, and unless he’d experienced love, he couldn’t convince readers of the love story between his characters. That love stemmed from the woman in his arms. He’d loved her all this time and had been too stupid to realize it.
“Dimitri?”
“Hmm?” He absently stroked her arm as he tried to find the words to tell her how much he loved her.
“Do you think people can be terrible because of their family? Bad genes?”
“What do you mean?”
“My dad loved fighting. He liked to hurt people. When I was in there, all I could think about was hurting her. I wasn’t Becca anymore, I was his daughter, and I flipped a switch. I hurt her, D. I even invoked his name, and it felt good. I don’t want to be like my dad. I can’t be like him.”
“You’re not like him, baby. You defended yourself using what you learned from your brother, your dad, and anyone else who taught you to fight. You saved yourself today. You weren’t a victim. You were a fighter, a survivor. Self-defense doesn’t turn you into your dad.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so, Krasivaya.” He kissed her softly on the temple, careful of the bandage covering the wound. “I learned something today too.”
“What’s that?” She yawned.
“That I love you.”
“I know you love me, D.”
“No, sweetheart, I mean I’m in love with you and probably have been since high school.” She went still in his arms, and he continued. “I didn’t realize it until I saw you lying there hurt, and there was nothing I wouldn’t have done to make you whole again. I had a come-to-Jesus moment, as you call it. He and I talked while the doctors checked you out, and I promised to do right by you. I’m going to marry you, Rebecca Joyce Rhodes.”
“You might have had a come-to-Jesus moment, but that doesn’t mean I have. You can’t marry me.”
“I beg to differ. I’m going to marry you.”
“Dimitri, you only just realized you had feelings for me. It’s too soon to talk about long term. We need to get to know each other, to…”
“I call bullshit.” He leaned down and lightly kissed her. “We do know each other better than most people who get married do. Nikoli only knew Lily a few months before he proposed. Same with Kade. My dad knew in a week Mama was the woman for him. You and I have known each other for years. I know your quirks, and you know mine.”
“It’s too soon.” She shook her head, the stubborn,