The tension in my chest eases as I laugh. “It helped. One plant turned into two, and eventually I started building a whole collection. My therapist called it a coping strategy.”
“I suppose it can be considered a better solution than drugs.”
Our eyes connect, his filled with a lightness I wish would remain for long spans of time. “Once I got the emotional stuff down, I was much more open to tutoring. It took a while, but I finally started succeeding in school.”
“And then what?”
“And then I graduated high school with a lot of help. I wasn’t ready to commit to a university yet after all the difficulties I went through in school, so that’s how I ended up at the temp agency you partnered with.”
“And then you drew the short stick and had to come work for me.”
My nose scrunches. “You went through assistants like one would go through underwear.”
“It’s not my fault they didn’t meet my expectations.”
I shake my head. “Whenever you fired someone, the remainder of us were forced to drop our names into a hat. I was lucky up until that point, but then—”
“You were chosen,” he finishes for me.
I nod. “I showed up to your office on Monday knowing I wouldn’t make it to the end of the week. But then…”
“What?” His eyes darken.
“I could just tell in your eyes that you expected me to fail.”
“And?”
“I spent my whole life having people look at me that way. Something snapped in me when you told me to not bother unpacking my stuff since I would be gone by the end of the week. It lit a fire under my ass. I was ready to do whatever it took to prove to myself once and for all that I could achieve anything I wanted, starting with my job.”
“Weren’t you afraid?”
“Of course I was. Your reputation was as terrible as your track record with assistants, but I knew nothing you could have said to me would have topped any of the shit I grew up hearing as a little kid.”
The steering wheel creaks under the pressure of his palms. “If I had known sooner, I would have held back on some of the things I told you—”
My laugh cuts him off. “Please. We both know you would have fired me if you realized my struggles.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s not true.”
“Why not?”
“Because if my mom were alive, she would have been ashamed of me for doing something like that.”
My chest feels as if he cut it open with his words alone. “Is that why you kept me all this time? Despite the errors and typos and slower turnaround times?” My voice sounds so small and unsure—a perfect match to how I feel with Declan stirring up all these emotions.
He draws a slow breath. “I kept you because you’re fantastic at your job. You always rose to whatever challenge I threw your way, whether it was a part of your job description or not. There wasn’t a single time I felt like your differences got in the way. If anything, I think it made you ten times better at your job because you thought differently than me. Just look at the Yakura deal. He would have never accepted the proposal without your additions to my model.”
A swell of emotion lodges itself in my throat. “Oh.”
“I might be cold, rude, and distant, but I’m not blind. My whole job is about evaluating assets and it turns out that you’re my biggest one.”
I never thought someone talking finance to me would be so heart-wrenchingly beautiful.
He gives my hand another squeeze as if to remind me of our connection. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you by my side.”
“You don’t need to try too hard. I am your wife after all.”
“Even if you weren’t, I won’t give you up.” The little smile on his face does something crazy to my heart rate.
I never thought someone like him could be capable of such sweet words. “Who knew you were such a nice guy underneath your grumpy exterior?”
“Don’t go telling anyone else or they’ll be disappointed to find out it’s only for you.”
Looks like the reporter was right. Declan does have a soft spot for me after all.
“Why?”
“Forelsket1.” His raspy whisper makes me feel like he shares a secret I can’t decode.
“Spell it for me.” I pull out my phone.
He shakes his head as if it can erase the tiny smile on his face. “Some words aren’t meant to be translated.”
“That’s such a lie! All your words have translations.”
“Correction. Some words aren’t meant to be translated by you.”
I cross my arms. “Where did you learn all these words anyway? There’s no way you know all these languages.”
He turns his head back toward the road. “It was a game my mom and I played together when I was a little kid.”
My throat gets scratchy at the thought. “How?”
“I was always bad at expressing my feelings, way before my mom ever got sick.”
“You? No. I refuse to believe that,” I say with absolute seriousness.
His glare makes me laugh.
“She taught me how some people need a hundred words to express a single thought, while some people only need one word to share a hundred thoughts.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
His eyes become distant. “It became our secret code. If I was feeling a certain way, she would ask me for my word.”
My bottom lip quivers. “What made you start using them again?”
He turns and looks at me. “Not what but who. We both struggle with words in our own ways. Me with expressing them, and you with reading them.” His explanation makes each word he shares feel even more meaningful.
The burning sensation in my chest intensifies, betraying just how much my heart wants to throw caution to the wind. It scares me more than I care to admit, so I stick to a safer question. “What made you choose non-translatable ones?”
“They started out in English but eventually once my brothers started picking up on it and started copying me, I switched gears. There was no way they could say kyoikumama, let alone spell it.”
“Always against sharing, ever since a young kid, huh?”
“You’re an only child. You can’t even begin to understand what it is like to grow up with siblings always stealing your stuff and copying you.”
“I wish! That seems a whole lot better than spending your entire life alone.”
“The silence must have been nice.”
I laugh. “It got old fast. If everything goes my way, I plan on having enough kids to fill a whole house so they never have to grow up feeling the way I did.”
He shoves the gear stick a bit harder than necessary. “Kids?”
“A whole minivan if I’m lucky.”
“I didn’t know you wanted a big family.” A vein in his neck throbs.
“You never asked, and I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Why not?”
“Because we only agreed to one child.”
“What if that weren’t the case?”
I feel shocked by his question. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
He pauses, clearly thinking of a response before shaking his head. “Nothing.”