“I’m fighting,” he murmured, stroking her cheek gently, tenderly. She was all bruises, scrapes and stitches and more beautiful than any woman in the world. “I’m fighting for us, fighting for you. I haven’t been able to leave your side, afraid that if I left, you’d disappear.”
She struggled to smile even as tears fell, slipping from the corners of her eyes. “I’m here.”
He smiled down at her, and caught a tear before it slid into her hair. “Yes, you are, my wife, my heart, my queen.”
Jemma’s lower lip trembled. “You can’t ever threaten to send me away again.”
“I won’t. Not ever. We are going to make this work, and we will have hard days and arguments and hurt feelings, but I promise you, I am here for you and with you. You and I are meant to be together.”
“Not because it’s your duty,” she whispered.
He smiled. “No, it’s not because of duty. We are together because you are my love, and the queen of my heart.”