He sniffs. “I know you were. You still are, and I’m the one who inflicted it. My entire life I’ve never known anything like this. A mix of hurt and happiness, desperation and sorrow. You are my sole purpose for existing, Em. No one else has beguiled me quite like you have. Everything I am, and everything I have, is yours for eternity.”

“What if…” My lip trembles, afraid to voice the thoughts that have plagued my mind as I tossed and turned through sleepless nights, the emptiness of the bed noticeable as the hours shifted from darkness to morning.

“Tell me. Please.”

“What if I’m not enough? What if one day you wake up and want nothing to do with me anymore, like the others in the past have done? What if you realize how much you miss your old lifestyle? What if there’s someone better out there? You had no problem touching another woman when I was in the same room.”

“Not enough?” he repeats, furrowing his brow. His smooth palms cup my cheeks, intense, promising eyes baring into my own. “You’re all of it, Emma. You’re everything. My everything. And I will pick you over anything else, a million times out of a million times, for the rest of my days. There’s no me without you anymore. It’s always been you. It’s always going to be you. From now until forever.”

The tears spill out now, falling down my face. Henry wipes them away, whispering soothing words into my ears as he draws me close to his body, arms wrapping around my waist and hugging me tight. The scents I almost started to forget slowly coming back to memory, cloaking me in comfort and… and love.

“Thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for your apologies. Thank you for being you.”

A tear slides down his own cheek and I wipe it away with my thumb. “It’s you and me forever, Sunflower. I’m never letting you go again.”

“What about when some hot former-blonde-newly-brunette walks past us down the sidewalk?”

“You’re going to use that line on me for the rest of our lives, aren’t you?”

“You can count on it.” I squeeze his waist. It feels like I never left. “I love you. I love you.”

It’s comically cliché to fall in love with someone after pretending to be their girlfriend. Our love didn’t originate recently, though. It didn’t happen in three weeks. It’s been gradually developing, a crescendo in a symphony, waiting to erupt into the final string of notes.

This moment.

“I have to tell you something else. I’m withdrawing my name from the partner consideration.”

“What?” I squeak. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“I don’t want it. You deserve it.”