Always My Babygirl: A Billionaire Romance

I look away.

I feel a nudge on my elbow. He’s trying to get my attention. I look over. He pokes me with a little white folded piece of paper. A note. Lexi is sleeping beside me. I lower my voice to a hiss so I don’t wake her. “I’m still mad.”

He widens those beautiful green eyes, poking me once more with the corner of the paper. I don’t want to take it; I don’t want to give him hope. But what girl can resist a love note?

Giving him a cool look I hold my hand out, expecting him to simply place the note in my palm. He does. But in the most sexual way possible.

He cradles my hand in his. With his other, he places the note in the center of my palm. Closes my fingers over it, ever so slowly, caressing my skin and sending tingles down my arm as he moves. He pulls my hand toward him, leans over, and kisses my finger, making my skin dance from the soft brush of his lips.

The kiss is heavenly, even though it comes from a lying devil.

I hold the note in my lap. I take my time unfolding it—let him squirm. There on the paper is his familiar handwriting. Tall and even and impeccable.

Perfect penmanship for the most imperfect man. The thought makes my heart sink, reminding me it’s over.

But then… I read the words he’s written on the paper.

My dearest Miranda —

You need to know, even though we’ve only been together a short while, you’ve forever changed me.

I am wiser now because of you—You made me see that delaying the truth is nothing more than a lie.

I am humble now because of you—I understand that though I may have the best intentions, they do not excuse my wrongful actions.

I am grateful because of you—The feeling you gave me was priceless, a memory I’ll forever cherish.

And even if you leave me, I hope I’ll still be in your heart.

Even if you leave me, you’ll always be my babygirl.

With all my love.

Gabriel

Damn him. Damn him for making these tears stream down my face, hot and fast, and with them a heavy sense of loss and love. Damn him for making me ugly cry and wipe my nose with the back of my shirt sleeve. Damn him for making this incredible warmth grow in my chest, feeling as if it will burst—my heart never feeling fuller than right now after reading these words.

Damn him.

I fold the note back. Slip it into my bag. Sneak a look at my sister. She’s still sleeping. I attempt to make some improvement upon my appearance, cleaning up the tears and taking deep breaths.

Another nudge. This time, a box of tissues. Unable to look at him, I take them, murmuring, “Thank you.” Thank you for breaking my heart, and trying to repair it. And, thank you for the tissues.

I can feel his anticipation, as he waits for me to reply to the outpouring of his love. I can’t. Time grows and with it, the space between us. Now, sadness seems to cloud around him. He settles back in his seat. Retrieves his phone. Pretending to scroll through the news.

What do I say?

The image of his black inked words on that white paper flash in my mind — With all my love. The phrase spins round and round in my mind. With. All. My. Love. Does that mean he… loves me?

Because despite his mistakes, I know I’ve fucking fallen for him.

I want to tell him that I love him. That I forgive him. That this note he’s written and I’ve slipped into my bag I will keep and cherish forever. But my throat tightens and the words don’t come.

The stewardess is headed in our directions. She gives a pearly white smile, straightening her navy blazer. “We’re just about to land.” She rests her arm on the seat before Gabriel, making idle chatter. I don’t miss the way she looks at him, her face lighting up. I don’t miss the way she leans a little closer. He’s polite as always but I can hear the detachment in his tone. Jealousy stirs in me, and I want to shove her back to the cockpit.

Jesus. I guess I’m not as detached as I should be.

Lexi rouses beside me, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Have we arrived?”

The moment has passed. I need to be in charge again, to show Lexi we can handle this. To show Gabriel, too. And maybe even myself.

The ride to the hospital is silent, the mood somber. Broken hearts and romantic entanglements forgotten with every mile we grow closer to my mom. I want to know how bad the stroke was, and if there is any long term damage.

How is she feeling? Is she in pain?

I stare out the window, wanting this ride to be over, needing this aching in my chest to disappear. He slides his arm around my shoulders, and it feels so good, I let him leave it there. The weight of his body against mine, his simple gesture of protection, it’s what I need to get through this.