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She was in love with me. Somehow, I’d fooled her into thinking I was the kind of man she should love.
I’d almost reached the swing set when an angry word rang across the playground. “No.” What? My feet stopped and I spun around. Willa was right behind me, not five feet away. Had she been following me this whole time? “Willa—” “No,” she cut me off again, closing the distance between us. “No, what?” “No, you don’t get to leave.”
She looked back at me, the smile still on her face, and she shook her head. “I was right.” “Right about what?” “You’re scared.” She stopped laughing and swiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “You love me and it scares you to death. Not because you’re worried that you’ll leave me. But because you’re terrified I’ll leave you, just like everyone else has always done.” “That’s not—I’m doing this for you.” She rolled her eyes and guffawed.
“Do you love me?” Her question sent ice through my veins. Pure. Petrifying. Ice. I wanted to lie and run away. I wanted to tell her no and be done with this. But with her blue eyes searching mine, only one word came to mind. “Yes.” The corner of her mouth turned up. “I knew it.”
“I’m not much of a fighter and I rarely stand up for myself. But I’m standing up for you. I’ll fight for you.” Her hands slid up to my cheeks, pushing me back so she could look me in the eye. “I’m not letting you go. And I’ll never leave you behind.”
closed my eyes, trying to work up the nerve to leave. But fuck, I wanted to keep her. Forever. Would she stay? Would Willa be that one person to stick? Yes.
She was my courageous champion. My warrior. My lover. My friend. My everyth...
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“I love you, Jackson Page,” she whispered. “Don’t run awa...
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“My Willa,” I whispered. “Only mine.” “Only yours.” She nodded,
She wouldn’t find another man to make her dreams come true. I was her dream and she was mine.
“I love you, Willa.” The words came easy. “Only you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For what?” “For being a fighter.” “I’m not.” She kissed my chest. “But I’ll always fight for you.”
“Why me?” I asked. “Because you’re you.” I lifted up to see her face. “That’s it?” “That’s it.” She nodded with a smile. “What if I asked you the same? Why me?” I grinned. “Because you’re you.”
Somehow, the timid woman who’d occasionally come into the bar—the girl whose name I’d fucked up for years—was the only person who’d made it past my barriers. She’d broken them down, one by one, and given me a love I’d cherish always.
