Had George used some of the money from the sale and bought the kids more gifts than usual?
I crouched beside the tree and pulled one brightly wrapped package toward me, inspecting the tag. My hand shook as I read the words written in a bold, masculine script.
For Noelle:
Merry Christmas, Little Owl
Love, Dylan
Dylan. He had remembered us. Somehow, he had sent gifts. My gaze flew over the piles. So many gifts. I was sure all wonderful, thoughtful things. He didn’t think he was good at relationships, or that he was a caring man, but he was. I had witnessed his caring. The things he had given my children. The way he spoke to them, the way he treated me. He simply couldn’t see it. He could spot an incredible business deal instantly, but he had no idea of the value of his own worth.
Tears sprang to my eyes. “No, Dylan.” I wept. “We didn’t want your gifts, we wanted you.”
Dropping the package, I buried my face in my hands, giving in to the despair I had been feeling. I would have given anything to find him there with me. He was all I wanted.
I started at the feel of arms wrapping around me.
Dylan’s arms.
A warm, gentle voice in my ear.
Dylan’s voice.
“You have me, my darling girl.”
Gasping, she turned, flinging her arms around my neck. I pulled her close, breathing her in, holding her tight to my chest. I let her cry, enjoying the feel of holding her again and realizing the constant ache was gone. I felt complete and whole. That damn quack doctor had been right.
Finally, I dropped my lips to her ear. “Hush, now. Look at me, baby. Please.”
She pulled back, cupping my face. “When . . . how . . .”
Leaning down, I wiped away her tears and kissed her—softly brushing her lips with mine. “A little while ago. George let me in.”
Her eyes were wide—I could see the fear in them. “George did? He knows you’re here? How long? Noelle . . . I can’t let her . . .”
I kissed her soundly, silencing her words. “Forever, Alex. If you’ll have me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I, until yesterday.” I inhaled deeply. I hadn’t planned to do it so soon, but the moment was right. “I love you, Alex. I want to build a life with you.” Before she could protest, I held a finger to her lips. “Here with you. I’ll build your house on the bluff. We’ll make a life together. You, me, Seth, and my Little Owl. We’ll be a family.” I pressed the box into her hand. “Marry me, Alex. Make this the happiest Christmas I’ve ever known.”
She looked down at the box, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Forgive me,” I begged her. “Forgive me for letting my fears stop me from telling you how much you mean to me. I know I said it was only here, but I was wrong. You’re everywhere, Alex. You’re inside me. You changed me so completely; I’m lost without you. For the first time in my life, I need someone. I need you. I need to be with you. Please let me.”
More tears ran down her face, and her bottom lip quivered.
“I don’t know anything about love or caring for other people. But I want to learn. I want you to teach me,” I pleaded. “I want to show you how much you—all of you—mean to me.” I touched her cheek gently. “You said you would be mine if you could,” I reminded her. “You can be. You simply have to say yes.”
“This is crazy.”
I grinned at her, using Arlene’s words. “Love is.”
“I . . . I have so many questions.”
“And I’ll answer all of them. Tell you anything you want to know. But let me do it with you as my fiancée. Please. Tell me you love me too.”
Her voice quavered. “I do love you. I love you so much, and I’ve . . . missed you so much since you left.”