Chapter 15 - THE VOWS WE CHOSE AGAIN
The twins were born on a rainy spring morning.
A boy.
A girl.
Healthy.
Loud.
And absolutely determined to keep their parents awake.
We named them Gabriel Thomas Cross and Elena Rose Cross.
Dorian cried when he held them.
I cried when I watched him.
Rafe cried too, although he insisted something had gotten into his eye.
For months, our house filled with the sounds of ordinary life.
Bottles.
Laundry.
Laughter.
Exhaustion.
And Dorian singing terribly off-key while rocking our daughter to sleep.
One evening, almost a year after the divorce papers had been left unfinished, I found him standing in the kitchen.
He was holding the old legal folder.
I froze.
“Dorian?”
He looked up.
“Do you remember this?”
I nodded.
“Unfortunately.”
He opened it.
Inside were the divorce papers.
Eleven pages.
My crooked A still visible on the final page.
Dorian looked at them.
Then at me.
“I kept them.”
I stared.
“Why?”
He swallowed.
“Because they remind me how close I came to losing you.”
My eyes filled.
He continued.
“I don't want to pretend the past didn't happen.”
He took my hand.
“I want to remember it so I never become that man again.”
I looked at him.
For a moment, I saw the husband I'd once loved.
Then I saw the man he'd become.
Kinder.
More honest.
Still imperfect.
But present.
Dorian reached into his pocket.
My breath caught.
He opened a small velvet box.
Inside was a simple gold ring.
No enormous diamond.
No extravagant display.
Just a ring.
“Alina Voss,” he whispered, “three years ago, I promised to love you.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“I broke that promise when I stopped letting you into my life.”
He swallowed.
“But if you'll let me, I'd like to make it again.”
I covered my mouth.
“This time, I promise to tell you the truth.”
A tear slipped down his cheek.
“To come home.”
He smiled through his tears.
“To be your partner.”
My heart pounded.
“And to love you in ways you can actually feel.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Dorian froze.
“Yes?”
I laughed through my tears.
“Yes, you impossible man.”
He slipped the ring onto my finger.
Then kissed me.
From the nursery, one of the twins began crying.
We laughed.
Dorian rested his forehead against mine.
“Duty calls.”
I smiled.
“Go get your daughter.”
He laughed.
“How do you know it's Elena?”
“Because Gabriel's asleep.”
Dorian kissed me once more.
Then hurried toward the nursery.
I stood in the kitchen for a moment, listening to him speak softly to our daughter.
And I remembered the lawyer's office.
The lemon polish.
The cold coffee.
The pen.
The crooked A.
The marriage that had almost ended.
I had walked into that office believing I was signing away my future.
Instead, the day had forced us to confront everything we'd been too afraid to face.
The lies.
The danger.
The love.
The truth.
And somewhere between the hospital, the investigation, and the quiet house with blue shutters, Dorian Cross had learned something no empire could teach him.
A family isn't something you protect by keeping people outside your walls.
It's something you build by letting the people you love inside.
And this time, when Dorian came home, he didn't arrive smelling of gun oil and cold air.
He arrived with groceries.
May you like
A tired smile.
And the certainty that he belonged exactly where he was.
