The Sick Wife by Lost Loretta (motivational books to read .TXT) 📕

to her than you were to me. I guess I was the trial run. The practice session. Your welcome, Mills. You two better name your firstborn kid after me. Isn’t that how it works in fairytales?”

“No,” Veronica interjects. “Usually the firstborn child gets taken by the bad guy. Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Well, that’s dark,” Evie says.

“I can’t name my firstborn after you,” I explain to Evie. “Gabe and I already decided on naming them after the seven days of the week. So we have to start with Sunday. Maybe if we have an 8th kid, we can name it Evie.”

“That’s cute,” Veronica says. “But Evie just sounds like a Pokemon. If you’re going to do that, you should name your children after Eevee and all the evolutions. Flareon, Vaporeon, Jolteon... and a lot of others. My daughter is obsessed.”

“Oh, that’s so adorable,” I say with a smile. I’m so happy I’ll get to see her little girl again.

“I have no idea what these words are,” Gabe complains. “Is it English?”

We all laugh.

“You’re too old,” Evie tells him. “But naming children after Pokémon is a fun idea.”

“It looks like the police are finally here,” Veronica informs us from the window. “By the way… what did you do to Mike?”

“He’s incapacitated,” Gabe answers with a smile. “I wouldn’t worry about him hurting anyone. Not anytime soon.”

Chapter 45

Gabriel is here, in my apartment, in my bed, in my arms.

I can’t describe the feeling to you. It’s really all I ever needed in life.

After I got out of the hospital, as soon as I could move my arms again, I wrapped them around him and haven’t really been able to let go. But it’s okay, because he hasn’t let go either.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” I say for the tenth time this hour.

“Me too. Milla, I’ve loved you since the first moment you told me to shut the fuck up.”

“You really should be told to shut the fuck up more often,” I joke.

Gabe nuzzles his chin against my hair. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t be together sooner.”

“You should be. You were supposed to stop my wedding. You jerk!”

“Yeah? Well, you weren’t supposed to go and get married to someone else two seconds after we broke up.” He sounds rather grumpy about this.

“You dumped me, what was I supposed to do?”

“A rapist got my wife knocked up when she was in a coma, what was I supposed to do?”

I sigh. “Okay. Fair enough. Can you just hold me.”

“Yes, of course.” He squeezes me tighter and kisses my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Milla. I nearly stopped the wedding. I swear to you.”

“I only got married to try to piss you off,” I whisper. “Get a reaction out of you.”

“It worked. I nearly broke down those church doors.”

I sigh happily. “Then I would do it all again… if it leads to you being here with me now. Nothing else matters.”

“Okay, that’s all very romantic,” he says, rubbing his hand over my back. “But we figured it out from the ultrasound timing. We could have just used DNA to prove what Mike did. So you didn’t have to put yourself in danger like that, just to get us another testimony against him. You put us both through more hell.”

“Gabe, I was just sad and lonely without you. And when my father died…”

“When did your father die?” he asks.

“When I couldn’t call you,” I answer with annoyance. Maybe I’ll spare him the details of my breakdown in the graveyard, for now. “Mike just seemed like a solution. I actually wanted to try and make it work with him. You know, until it became clear he preferred me paralyzed.”

“I hate it when that happens,” Gabe says jokingly.

“You have the worst sense of humor.”

“So do you,” he answers, kissing my nose.

“Mmm,” I say happily. “Then we’re a good fit.”

“Did I tell you about the new book that I’ve started writing?” Gabe asks me, as I’m drifting off to sleep in his arms.

“No, what is it?” I ask, yawning. After all the sedation I’ve been under, you would think that I would never want to sleep again.

“DON’T JUST LIE THERE—a true story of my wife and the necrophiliac.”

I try to restrain it, but I can’t. I burst into laughter so hard that it shakes my whole body. “Gabe, you are insane. That is the most ridiculous title I’ve ever heard of.”

“You don’t like it?”

“It needs work. A lot of work. All your book titles are terrible,” I inform him. “For starters, shouldn’t it be ‘wives,’ plural? I mean, if you think we’ll be married by the time of publication.”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t see my ring on your finger,” he points out. “Are we still engaged?”

“I flushed it down the toilet,” I tell him.

“You did?”

“No, of course not, silly. It’s over there, but I’m too comfortable to move. But just in case it wasn’t clear before… Gabriel Delacroix, will you marry me?”

“I hope so,” he says, kissing my lips. “But we both probably need to get divorced first.”

“Good point,” I tell him with a smile. “You shouldn’t accept a proposal from a married woman. You should know better.”

“Well, I just beat your husband within an inch of his life, and felt the satisfying crack of his spine under my fist—so I think this is a safe proposal to accept.”

“Thank you for defending my honor,” I tell him happily.

“Always, sweetie.”

Epilogue Milla

We’re in court for Mike’s trial.

My belly is large with Sunday and Monday Delacroix.

Gabe has scheduled his book release to be well-timed with the trial, so there has been tons of press swarming us to try and get more information about the weird and twisted crimes that were committed.

Yvette has testified, and I have testified, and it has been exhausting. All the publicity shoving our worst personal moments into the spotlight is definitely not helping.

We are on a recess right now while the jury decides on the verdict, but I almost don’t want to stick around to hear it.