A tear rolls down her cheek. “But—”
“But nothing. Not only am I in love with the outside of this body, I’m in love with your soul, Aviva.”
Her breath catches as her eyes meet mine. “You love me?”
“Oh hell, Aviva. You know I do. How could I not? Look at what I see. I treasure you. I get to love this gorgeous, hot, and wicked smart woman. How can you not see that?” She tries to turn in my arms, but I won’t let her. “Look at yourself.” She’s reluctant, but she does. Problem is, I can’t make her see the truth of what I feel when I look at her. That overwhelming love.
“Aviva, do you not love yourself?”
She shrugs. “I do. I just don’t like the way I look.”
I shake my head. “That’s unacceptable. You are perfect.”
“Nico, my chest—”
“Is perfection,” I say, staring at her. “What can change that for you? Do you want breasts?”
Her lips quiver as she nods. “I do.”
“Then get them when Callie does. I’ll take care of both of you, or I’ll have my mom come in.”
“Nico, the shop—”
“Can close for a fucking week, because I can’t keep doing this!” I yell, making her jump. “You can’t love me if you don’t love yourself, and that pisses me the fuck off.”
She blinks, tears rolling down her face. “But I do love you.”
My heart stops. I wanted to hear those words and I want to believe them, but how can she when she can’t even love herself? “You can’t fully love me until you love yourself. I can’t keep having this conversation with you. I can’t keep defending my love for you. I love you with my whole heart, and I know you’d never hurt me because I know I’m fucking awesome, and who could you replace me with? No one.” I point to the mirror, where tears are falling quicker down her beautiful face. “Now, love this woman before us and know I would never hurt her or try to replace her. How can I? I can’t replace perfection.”
With that, I walk out of the bathroom with tears burning my eyes because I don’t know if she is capable of loving herself.
And that scares me to the core.
Chapter Thirty
Aviva
I can’t replace perfection.
You can’t love me if you don’t love yourself.
Nico’s words roll over and over again in my head as I stare at myself in his mirror. Tears are flowing down my face as the scars on my chest taunt me.
If you want boobs, get them when Callie does.
I close my eyes as the tears leak out. He doesn’t understand. Without pulling up my dress, I head out of the bathroom to find him on the bed, his phone in hand. He looks over at me. “Come to bed.”
I glare. “You don’t understand,” I say loudly. “I have hated this body for nine years. You can’t just demand I stop!”
He lays his phone down, putting his hands behind his head. “Yes, I can.”
I’m flabbergasted. “No, you can’t.”
“I can, because I love it. There is absolutely nothing on you to hate, Aviva. You have this notion in your head that you need boobs to complete you, and you don’t.”
“But that’s my cross to bear, and I’ll get there. But how dare you say I can’t love you—”
“You can’t,” he says so calmly. “You’ll always think I want better, and that’s not fair to me or you. I really don’t want anyone else, I promise. I happen to love you and only you.”
My jaw is hanging open. “So what? You want to end this?”
He rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh. “What in the hell? How does I love you mean I want to end this?”
“Because why do you get to love me, but I don’t get to love you?”
“I don’t doubt you love me, Aviva. I mean, come on. I’m a catch—”
“Your cockiness knows no bounds.”
He nods. “Yeah, so?”
I can’t even argue with him. “Oh my God, you drive me crazy.”
“I’m aware,” he says simply. “But like I said, I can’t keep doing this dance with you. Love yourself, know I’m not fucking around on you or that I want to. I love you. I love that body, and I don’t need you to have boobs. I need you to smile.”
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest as my lip quivers. I hate how I am feeling. So defeated, so worthless. “I don’t know how to love myself.”
Something changes in his eyes. Gone is the cockiness, replaced by concern. “It’s easy, Aviva. Just know you are perfection, and the rest will fall into place.”
“How, when I know I’m not? I’m missing a key piece, Nico.”
“Funny, because your key piece to me is your soul.”
My heart is going crazy in my chest, as are the butterflies in my gut.