“You don’t have to thank me. You’re the one who’s giving me the biggest gift in life.”
And with those words, I realize that I’m tired of pushing him away. He’s done everything to show me that he belongs in my life. It’s about time I tell him how I feel.
No more panicking. No more second-guessing. No more hiding from my feelings.
I love Rasmus Viktor Mikael Westerholm.
Later that evening, we’re curled up together on the couch, listening to music and enjoying a quiet night before his game tomorrow.
“Let me pick the next song,” I say, reaching for his phone on the coffee table. My fingers close around it, but when I tap the screen, it’s locked. “What was your passcode again?”
“1701.”
I type it in. “What’s the meaning of those numbers?”
He goes still and replies in a quiet voice, “January seventeenth.”
“Is that an important day in your life?”
Rasmus doesn’t answer right away. But when he speaks, his voice is soft yet sure. “The most important one.”
“Why?”
His gaze drops to my stomach, his hand following, restingthere gently. “It was the day I first saw my son,” he says, voice rough with emotion.
Our first ultrasound appointment together was on that day. The day the little life growing inside me also became real for him. I blink against the sudden sting in my eyes, but it’s useless. Tears fill them, anyway, blurring my vision.
Rasmus doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He watches me in that quiet, patient way of his and wraps his arms around me. My growing belly presses against him, a reminder of everything that has changed and everything that’s still to come.
“Imagine how round my belly will be in a few months. We’re halfway through the pregnancy.”
He shifts, pressing a slow kiss to my temple and lowers his lips to my stomach. “I happen to love your rounding belly”, he says with another kiss. “And the strong legs that carry you and our baby around.”
His hands slide down to my thighs as he moves his lips to my neck, tracing a path along my skin. Kissing my cheek first, he gives me a peck on my nose. “I also love your cute nose and these lips,” he says, pressing his mouth to mine, slow and sweet.
I laugh against his lips, not sure where he’s going with this, but loving every second of it. We haven’t kissed since my dad got admitted to the hospital. But the feel of his lips on mine is as natural as breathing.
“And mostly,” he continues after a few more kisses, “I love that laugh of yours or how you sometimes snort right after.”
I laugh again, entirely out of the giddiness of his words. But it dissolves almost instantly, the rush of all these emotions overwhelming me. My throat tightens as fresh tears spill over.
“Sweetness, what’s wrong?” Rasmus asks, worry creasing his brows. “I don’t know how I keep making you cry all the damn time.”
I shake my head, pressing my forehead against his. “Nothing is wrong. These are happy tears, Rasmus,” I whisper. “Because I realized that I really love you. A lot. Too much at times, if I’m being honest.”
I see the moment my words register, clear as a cloudless summer day. His face brightens, and his smile is real and honest.
He cups my face, kissing my tear-stained cheeks. “I love you, Haisley,” he murmurs. “For the person you are. For the gift you’re giving me.” He shakes his head slightly. “I’ve kept those words inside me for days. But knowing you love me too, I won’t ever stop saying it. I love you. I love you. I love you,” he punctuates each declaration with a kiss. “Jag älskar dig.”
The Swedish words settle deep in my chest, anchoring me to him in a way I hadn’t fully grasped until now. I know what they mean, because he sometimes whispers them to my stomach. But now, they’re for me.
I sniffle, trying to pull myself together. “Jag älskar dig, Rasmus,” I echo.
He lets out a shaky breath like the words knocked the air right out of him. His thumb brushes beneath my eye, catching the last of my tears.
“For a long time, I didn’t think I’d ever say those words to anyone. Not after losing my grandparents. I was so sure I was better off keeping everyone out. It felt easier that way. Safer.”
“Me too. I got good at building walls. I thought if I kept them high enough, no one could hurt me,” I pause, the weight of themoment curling tight around my ribs. “But after fighting against my feelings since we reunited, I realized you make me want to risk it. You make me want to let someone in.”
