Sweet Retribution (Rydeville High Elite #3)(49)
“I like how you attack,” he murmurs, nipping at my earlobe. “Feel free to jump me anytime.”
“I will take that literally, you know.”
“I’m counting on it.” He smiles, hauling me up his chest and capturing my lips in a slow-moving kiss. When he kisses me like this, like he has all the time in the world, I feel like the most cherished woman in the world. No measure of time will ever be enough with this man. I will love him to infinity and beyond. “And it barely hurts anymore. Rick knows his stuff.”
“He’s going to make a great doctor,” I agree.
“I have something for you,” he says, leaning down and pulling a package from the inside of his jacket.
“It’s not my birthday,” I say, taking the pink package from his hands. It’s a small rectangular shape and semi-heavy.
He sweeps my hair off my shoulder. “I don’t need a reason to give my wife a present.”
“I love it when you say that,” I whisper, pecking his lips.
“I love saying it,” he admits with a smile. “And I only wish I could say it more.”
“Soon, hon. Soon.” I sit upright, and the sheet pools at my waist. I scowl at my naked breasts, still hating the sight of them. They are way too big for my slim frame, and they just look ridiculous on me, like two big melons planted on my unsuspecting rib cage. And they are so obviously fake, which only makes me hate them even more.
Kai notices my scowl and he pulls the sheet back up, tucking it in under my arms, and I fall in love with him all over again. “Fuck, I love you,” I say, my eyes brimming with emotion.
“Love you, too, firecracker. Now open your present.”
I tear at the pretty wrapping, unveiling the brown leather album inside. I open it up and gasp. “Is this what I think it is?” I ask, fighting tears as I flick through the first few pages.
“I wanted you to understand how much you mean to me.”
“There are so many,” I say, flicking through his drawings of me. Some of them are familiar, from times I went snooping in his sketch pad. But most are new. “When did you draw all these?” I ask, running my finger over the drawing of me standing beside Kai at the office in city hall where we got married. The look of euphoria on my face perfectly sums up how I was feeling that day. We didn’t take any photos, because we couldn’t risk any evidence, so I know he’s drawn this from memory. “It’s beautiful.” I tip my chin up. “You are incredibly talented, and I’m so lucky you’re mine.” I lean into him, kissing him passionately.
“Thank you,” I say, holding the album to my chest, embracing it like the precious gift it is. “I love it.”
He caresses my cheek. “I wanted you to have a physical reminder of our love. For the times when I’m not there, and you need to feel the strength of my feelings for you.” He looks a little sheepish as he continues explaining. “Those sketches represent everything I’m feeling deep inside. I poured my heart and soul into them, and drawing helps me feel connected to you, especially when we’re apart.”
He pulls me back into his lap. “When I need to see your face, and I can’t physically be with you, opening up my sketchpad is the next best thing. It helps me visualize you from a happy memory or imagine a future one. And it gives me hope.” He kisses my cheek. “I want it to give you hope too. To help reinforce our love at times when we’re tested, because it is going to be tested, but I never want you to doubt my love.” He kisses my other cheek. “I want you to always remember how much I fucking love you, because you are all I see. Always.”
He always knows what I need to hear, and this is perfect, because I’ve been stressing out over him being forced to bring Giselle to my wedding party as his date. With this gesture, he has allayed all my fears. Now, I’ll just need to find some secret hiding place in my bedroom to keep it, because there’s no way I’m not taking it home with me.
“You have no idea—” I cut my words off when I see the alarmed look on his face. “What is it?” Panic bubbles up my throat.
He looks down. “Abby,” he chokes. His panicked eyes meet mine. “You’re bleeding.”
“What?” I look down, and my stomach twists and turns. A bright red circle stains the sheet in my lap, growing wider.
I climb off Kai, letting the sheet drop to the floor, standing on wobbly limbs as I examine the streaks of blood running down my thighs with disbelieving eyes. My panicked gaze darts to Kai’s, and I sway on my feet as a multitude of questions flit through my mind. He stands, grabbing hold of me before I tumble to the floor. My mind is churning over possibilities, as hope simmers under the surface of my skin. I stare at the blood, wondering if I’m imagining it. “Can you see it?” I whisper, peering deep into his eyes. “The blood between my thighs. Is it really there?”
He nods, looking worried. I clutch onto his arm. “It’s not real,” I whisper, as tears pool in my eyes.
“It’s real, baby,” he says in a soft voice. “I see it.”
I shake my head. “I meant what my father said,” I clarify. “About the hysterectomy. It’s not real. The bastard lied to me again.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Baby.” Kai’s tortured eyes meet mine. “We can’t be sure of anything, and right now, I need to know that you’re okay. That this—”