Chapter 130 – Ivan
The door clicks shut behind us, sealing the two of us into the golden hush of the hotel suite.
I don't wait.
I all but throw myself into Zander's arms, the cold clinging to my skin, the snow still melting in my hair. I'm shivering and sweating at the same time, overwhelmed by adrenaline, love, the absurdity of what we just did.
He catches me like he always does—steady, firm—and cups my face in those freezing hands of his. His fingertips are numb, his nose is cold as it bumps against mine, but the moment his lips press to mine?
It's perfect.
I melt into the kiss, my fingers gripping the front of his shirt like I'll fly apart otherwise. His warmth seeps into me slowly, and with it, the full weight of what just happened hits me.
We're married.
He's my husband.
My heart hammers in my chest as we pull apart, just enough to breathe.
"I love you," I whisper, grinning so hard my face aches.
"I love you," he says back, dark eyes glittering like onyx wet with dew. I swear he looks at me like I'm made of magic and light. He always has.
I lean in to peck his lips again, playful this time. "Happiness is a good look on you, Mr. Zander Vale."
He laughs—actually laughs—and then sweeps me up into his arms in one sudden, spinning twirl. I let out a startled yelp that turns into a delighted laugh, clinging to his neck with both arms as he turns us around the center of the suite like we're in a ballroom, not tracking snow onto luxury carpet.
I've never seen him like this. Wild. Uninhibited. Joyful.
Okay not never, the Zander on the island was this way too, but since we left he hasn't had that joy.
He sets me down gently, then kisses my forehead. His lips linger there, like he's sealing something in place.
"Hey… thank you," he murmurs.
I blink up at him, surprised. "No, thank you."
He opens his mouth to argue—probably to say something self-deprecating, like always—but I cut him off, wrapping my arms tight around his waist.
"They have a point, you know," I say, quiet but firm. "I don't deserve you."
He starts to shake his head, but I keep going.
"I'm serious. For some insane, bizarre, wonderful reason, Zander Vale fell in love with me. And now I'm his husband. Your husband. You could've had anyone—someone with a better past, better pedigree, someone less… complicated."
I look up at him, my voice going soft. "But I won't be dumb enough to question it. I'm just going to hope you never wake up and realize you made a mistake."
His brows furrow, his lips part.
"Because if you ever try to leave me," I add sweetly, "I'll kill you. Then I'll kill myself, because you do not get to escape me, not even go the after life."
He blinks.
Then laughs.
A real, delighted laugh that vibrates through his chest and into mine.
"Impossible," he says, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand.
Then his expression shifts—tender, reverent—and he leans in again.
***
Zander
Leave him?
Never.
I place one hand at the back of his neck and kiss him like he's air, like he's mine to worship, like I'll never get enough. His mouth is soft and familiar and full of fire all at once.
There's no one more beautiful than Ivan. No one more real. Everything he is—his fire, his sharp tongue, his messy vulnerability—all of it is mine.
And I am selfish.
So painfully, shamelessly selfish.
He's already going through so much because of me. Unfortunately for both of us, I'm too selfish to ever let him go.
I pull away, eyes on his flushed cheeks, the softness of his lips.
"My husband."
I murmur the words like a prayer and press a kiss to the tip of his cold nose.
Then—because I can—I bend down and scoop him into my arms, bridal style. He makes a surprised sound, but doesn't resist—just slips his arms around my neck like he was always meant to be there.
I twirl us slowly in place, laughing again. I don't know what to do with all this joy, with the way it's taking up space in my chest, pressing against my ribs until I think I might burst.
I'm walking on clouds. Actually, no—clouds are too soft for this. I feel like I've hijacked a satellite and I'm orbiting the earth. Married. I married him. And he said yes.
It was impulsive. Irrational. Beautiful. Ridiculous.
"You ready for our first bath together as a married couple?" I ask, angling toward the marble-trimmed bathroom.
Ivan leans close, his lips grazing my cheek. "The first of a lifetime of baths. Definitely."
My heart skips. Lifetime.
If this is what every moment with him feels like, then a lifetime is going to be dangerously short, for my heart won't survive.