Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 20030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Please help me, God.
Why am I still in love with him?
"Star—"
I walk faster as soon as I hear his voice behind me.
No, no, no.
I need to be as far away from him as possible. I need to get out of here before I completely break down in front of half of San Antonio's elite. I just—noooo!
I've only made it halfway across the dining room before long fingers cup my elbow from behind, and then he's spinning me around in the middle of the restaurant's main corridor.
Tears are already streaming down my cheeks before our gazes even meet, and they only spill faster when I hear him groan.
"Star, God, no..."
Wynd hauls me to his chest, and his arms only tighten around me when I struggle to free myself.
A part of me is reeling in shock, unable to comprehend how my billionaire of ice seems completely indifferent to the fact that everyone in the restaurant is staring...at us.
But the other part of me is just...hurting. It's the part of me that loves him still, the part of me that is trying so, so hard not to break into pieces.
"Wynd, p-please—"
"You know I love you, don't you?"
A sob escapes me at the hoarsely spoken words.
Why is he doing this?
Why?
"And I know you love me back."
Why tell me this when he's still determined to leave?
"But I also thought love made people selfish...until you."
W-What is he saying?
Wynd's hands are shaking as he cups my face, and God, oh God...
What I see in his icy blue eyes scares me to death...because it makes me want to hope.
It makes me want to believe again.
Please, God, please.
In all the days since Wynd walked out, all I've done is pray.
But not once did I hear God ask me to let him go.
"I know you're scared, Star. So am I."
And now, it's as if God's speaking through my Wynd, with his heart completely exposed and made vulnerable by his words.
The walls he used to hide behind are completely gone, and that scares me even more.
"But walking away from you was the biggest mistake of my life, and...that's when I realized—"
Oh God, please.
All I can do is look at him...because I'm still too scared to hope.
"There's nothing more terrifying than to envision a future without you and Samuel."
Wynd, oh Wynd.
The moment I start smiling through my tears, Wynd hauls me back into his arms, a violent shudder rocking his powerful frame as my body melts against his.
His mouth covers mine, hungrily and desperately, and all I can do is kiss him back even as my tears won't stop falling.
When he pulls away, all the love I never thought I could find is shining in his eyes—
Oh dear God, how?
"Will you give me another chance, Star?"
My billionaire of ice goes down on bended knee, and it's only when the entire restaurant bursts in applause that I even remember it's not just the two of us, and we're still in a public place.
"Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
Six Months Later
I STUDY MY SHOES THROUGH the delicate layers of my wedding dress, and even they look like something from a fairytale. Crystal-clear glass slippers with tiny white silk flowers painted along the edges, each petal so intricately detailed they look real. They're completely impractical and utterly perfect, just like everything else about this day.
The past six months have been nothing short of magical.
My billionaire may be the one who's made of ice, but oh, the things he's been doing—it has my heart melting day after day. It's not just how he loves me and Samuel; it's how he finds no shame in loving God, too, with Wynd telling me the same night he proposed that he had learned to pray after losing me.
Wynd was also the one to insist that we attend marriage counseling seminars at my local church, and he's had every woman in San Antonio swooning ever since the media somehow found out about his promise not to even kiss me until we're married.
The headlines have been relentless (Billionaire Blue Balls as one gossip site calls him), and the press has gone crazy since then, having realized how easy it was for them to rack up views and reads just by reporting every little thing about our relationship.
But the one thing Wynd has effectively kept private is our intention to adopt Samuel, with the help of Mrs. Chopin herself and an experienced social worker. We didn't rush anything, choosing instead to visit Samuel every day so he can take his time getting to know Wynd and me. Four months after that, our application to adopt him was approved, and our darling boy has officially become our son.
The wooden doors before me finally open, and the lilting notes of Canon in D come streaming out, played by the small orchestra Wynd insisted we hire even though I would have been perfectly happy with Mrs. Garcia on the church piano.