Chapter 43 #43
Chapter 43
~Dante~
After visiting father, I watched Shailyn from across the hospital waiting room, my eyes tracking every small movement she made. The way she shifted in that uncomfortable plastic chair, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. The way her hand kept drifting to her stomach, protective and unconscious.
Mine.
The word pulsed through my head like a heartbeat, constant and demanding.
She was mine. That baby growing inside her was mine. This whole fucking situation was mine to control.
"Dante?" Her soft voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Are you okay? You're staring."
I crossed the room to her in three long strides, crouching down in front of her chair so we were eye level. My hands went to her knees, possessive and firm.
"I'm fine, baby," I said, making sure my voice was gentle, concerned. "I'm just worried about you. You've been through so much today."
"I'm okay," she protested, but I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. "Really, Dante. I'm just a little tired."
"A little tired?" I let my thumb stroke the inside of her knee, watching her shiver at the contact. "Baby, you're six weeks pregnant. You witnessed my father fall. You rushed to the hospital. That's not 'a little tired.'"
"I guess when you put it like that..." She smiled weakly.
"Come here." I stood and pulled her up with me, guiding her to lean against my chest. My arms wrapped around her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other splayed possessively across her lower back. "Just let me hold you for a minute."
She melted into me immediately, her body soft and pliant against mine. Exactly how she should be.
"That's my girl," I murmured into her hair, breathing in her scent. Vanilla and something uniquely Shailyn. "Always so strong, but you don't have to be strong all the time. That's what I'm here for."
"I know," she whispered against my chest.
"Do you?" I pulled back just enough to tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "Because sometimes I wonder if you really understand how much I love you. How much I need you. How I'd do anything, absolutely anything, to keep you safe."
"Dante…"
"I'm serious, Shailyn." I cupped her face in both hands, my thumbs stroking her cheeks. "You and this baby are everything to me. Everything. Without you, I'm nothing. Do you understand that?"
Her eyes were wide, slightly uncertain. Good. She should feel the weight of what I was saying.
"I understand," she said softly.
"Good." I kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. Soft kisses that spoke of devotion and love and all the things she needed to believe. "Because I can't lose you. I won't lose you. Not to anyone or anything."
"You won't lose me," she promised, her hands clutching at my shirt.
I kissed her again, deeper this time, possessive. When I finally pulled back, she was breathless, her lips swollen and pink.
"That's right," I said softly. "You're mine, Shailyn. Only mine."
"Only yours," she echoed, and the way she said it, automatic, almost hypnotized, sent satisfaction coursing through my veins.
This was exactly what I needed. Shailyn compliant, devoted, completely under my control. The amnesia had been a gift, erasing all her doubts and rebellion.
Movement caught my eye, Dwayne had returned, and he was watching us with that judgmental expression I'd come to hate.
I made sure to kiss Shailyn again, slower this time, more deliberately. Making a point. Making sure my brother understood exactly who she belonged to.
"Come on," I said, guiding her back to the chair. "Sit down. Rest. I'll get you some water."
"I can get my own water, Dante."
"I know you can, baby. But why should you when I'm here to take care of you?" I pressed her gently into the seat, my hand lingering on her shoulder. "Let me do this for you. Please?"
She relented, like I knew she would. "Okay. Thank you."
"Anything for you."
I walked toward the vending machines, very aware of Dwayne's eyes following me. When I was sure Shailyn couldn't hear, I detoured slightly, coming to stand next to my brother.
"Something you want to say?" I asked quietly.
"You're suffocating her," Dwayne said, his voice equally low.
"I'm loving her," I corrected. "Something you wouldn't understand."
"That's not love, Dante. That's possession."
I turned to face him fully, keeping my expression neutral even though I wanted to grab him by the throat. "She's my wife. My pregnant wife. Forgive me for wanting to take care of her."
"Taking care of her would be giving her space to breathe."
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." I stepped closer. "You weren't here for the past five years. You don't know what our marriage is like. You don't know Shailyn like I do."
"I know she deserves better than…"
"Than what?" I cut him off, my voice dropping to something dangerous. "Than a husband who worships her? Who would burn the world down for her?"
"You're manipulating her," Dwayne said flatly. "Using her amnesia to rewrite history."
"Or maybe," I said, my smile cold, "I'm just reminding her of what we had before outside influences started poisoning her mind against me."
"Outside influences like the truth?"
"Outside influences like you." I let the words hang between us. "I see the way you look at her, brother. Like you think you have some kind of claim. But you don't. She's mine. She's always been mine."
Dwayne's jaw clenched. "This isn't over."
"You're right," I agreed. "It's not. Because when she gets her memories back, and she will eventually, she's still going to choose me. Know why? Because I'm the father of her child. I'm the man she's built a life with."
I left him standing there and went to the vending machine, buying water for Shailyn. When I returned, she looked up at me with those trusting eyes, so full of love.
"Here you go, baby," I said, sitting down beside her. My arm immediately went around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Drink slowly."
"Thank you," she murmured, leaning into me.
I kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent again. Mine. She was mine. The baby was mine.
And I would control it all.
Because love wasn't about giving someone freedom. Love was about binding someone to you so tightly they couldn't imagine life without you. It was about becoming so essential to their existence that the thought of leaving felt like death.
That was real love.
And I loved Shailyn more than she could possibly understand.
I would never let her go.
Never.
I looked down at Shailyn, her eyes starting to close as exhaustion pulled at her, her trust in me absolute.
"I love you," I whispered, and meant it in my own way. The only way I knew how to love, possessive, consuming, absolute.
"Love you too," she murmured, already half-asleep.
I tightened my arms around her.
Always mine.
And heaven help anyone who tried to take her from me.