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He’s fiddling with the IV tube as if he wants to remove it. I jog to his side and place a hand on his. “What are you doing?” He looks up at me, his face a bit drowsy and his eyes unfocused. “Mia, is that you?” “Yeah. What are you trying to do?” “Coming to see you.” “But you’ve been shot!” “Why should that stop me?” He
“Who says I’m unable to love you?” “You couldn’t say it earlier.” “Because I don’t like to label what I feel for you as love. This”—he points between us—“is much more potent and twisted than mere love. If loving someone means letting them go and wishing them happiness with someone else, then I don’t subscribe to that definition. But if love means protecting and wanting to take care of you till my dying day, then I love you more than anyone has ever loved another human being.”
We’ve been taking it slow, but I’m learning to forgive her. She hit rock bottom after that incident. Apparently, as I suspected, she had a major crush on Ilya, Jeremy’s senior bodyguard, and probably even started a secret relationship with him. But evidently, she did something so unforgivable, he broke up with her. Then the thing with Mrs. Pratt happened and I cut ties with her. She had a mental breakdown. I was there for her.
“You’re the reason this masterpiece exists.” I lower myself to one knee and pull out the ring that I had custom-made from a rare jewel that matches her eye color. “You’re not only my muse, but also the sole reason I create anymore. You don’t complete me, you fill me up with your hope, determination, and constant nagging. But I digress. Only slightly, though.” I let my charming smile show through. “I used to believe I didn’t have a soul, but it turns out, I just needed you to fill it up. Now that I found you, I can’t and won’t live without you. Mia Sokolov, would you marry me?” Tears shine in
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