Abby Jimenez

He pulled me in, thumbing tears off my face. “Kristen, I need you to know that if none of these options were available to us, I would still want you. I want you no matter what. I want you first before I want anything else.” His face was earnest and steady. “I have no chance of happiness if I can’t have you. None.”

He caressed my cheek. “You know you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, right?” His eyes blazed with emotion. “I love you, Kristen. You are the one great love of my life.”

His words gripped my heart. “I love you too, Joshua. Forever.”

Mom was flipping out. Not just because Sloan was The Huntsman’s Wife, but because I didn’t bring women home as a rule.

And bringing Sloan home meant exactly what Mom thought it did.

I wanted to reach her and touch her and hold her in my arms forever.

Because I was completely and totally in love with her.

capable, loving hands.

“Have them. They’re yours,” he said.

I smiled. “You’re giving me your hands?”

“My hands, my voice. My back to do your heavy lifting, my arms to carry you to bed when you’ve had too much tequila. My money, my time, my heart. It’s all yours, Sloan.”

Sloan had painted me.

She’d painted this from memory. It was like seeing the moment through her eyes. This was how she had seen me that day, smiling and happy.

I’d been happy because she was there.

And I’d never be that happy again.

Someone smart once told me you can start over again. Start now

“Are you sure you’re not hitting on me?”

She set down napkins and silverware.