Page 107 of Tough Love
Evan rolls his head toward him, opening his eyes. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
I bite my tongue, refraining from reminding Evan it wasn’thimthat scared us, it was Briar’s arsehole father.
“I didn’t want you to die,” Briar whispers, fighting tears.
“I didn’t either,” Evan answers, “which is why I’m here. Too proud to give in and too stubborn to miss out on anything.” He reaches out and manages to tap Briar on the shoulder. “Everything’s okay now.”
My heart fills watching the way Briar eyes him with nothing short of utter and complete trust. He believes what Evan said, and in a way, I do too. Everythingisokay now. The police already informed me when we first arrived that Tristan will remain in custody until he’s charged, and with his priors, he won’t be coming out for a hell of a long time.
He tried to kill a police officer, off duty or not. You don’t talk your way out of that very easily. Especially with three reliable witnesses.
I give Evan’s hand a squeeze, and then lean down to press a light kiss to his cheek as he sighs. “I love you.” I feel my cheeks heat, still finding it awkward to voice the words out loud. But damn it if I’m losing another minute without him knowing exactly what he means to me.
“I love you too, Mimi. But you know that.”
He couldn’t have proved it more if he tried. He literally laid his life on the line for me—forus.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Always did,” he says with a sigh.
“Always will,” I finish as Briar scoots to my side, resting his head against my arm.
This is how it’s supposed to be. How it was always meant to be.
Evan, standing by me, supporting me, while I achieved things I never thought I would be capable of.
I’ve been through hell, endured things that would have broken some people, and yet, I appreciate every ounce of pain and suffering that I lived through because those are the things that shape you as a human, that give you perspective, compassion, and empathy.
Those are the things that make me who I am today.
And this girl? She couldn’t imagine life any other way.
EPILOGUE
“Take it easy,” I remind Evan as he stretches to hang the Christmas lights from the eaves of the apartment.
He’s healed remarkably well—a testament to how fit he is, I’ve been told—but his scarred wound still gives him trouble when he pulls the flesh like this.
“Woman, I know where my limits are,” he says before promptly groaning and proving my point.
“Yeah,” I smugly say as I head back over to the bag of decorations I bought yesterday. “Sure you do.”
The spirit of the season has never really been something that’s gripped me before. Previous years, the three-inch dollar-store decoration I stuck on the end of my kitchen counter sufficed, but this year … well, I have a reason to be a little more festive.
“Do you think he’ll be surprised?” I slide a tray of snowflake-shaped lights out of its box, knowing I’m going to rue this next year when they aren’t all so neatly packaged.
“I think so.” Evan carefully climbs down from where he’d been precariously balanced on the edge of my stairwell. “Where do you want to hang those?”
“Thought we could do it like a line that goes along the bannister rail.”
He nods, taking the lights from me. “There’s going to be plenty more times like this, you know.”
“Yeah, I do. That’s what sucks.”
I managed to somehow avoid the looming subject of Christmas without Kath, but once the stores began their displays—in freaking October—there was no way around it. Briar laid eyes on the massive tree set up in the centre of the mall, and I just knew it.
Everything clicked into place.