Like this, the world won’t be able to touch her. No one will be able to hurt her, and she never has to worry about a thing ever again.

The top of her head grazes my lips as I pull her tighter and sigh.

Good. I’m still taller than her.

Keep it that way.

She doesn’t move away, and there’s no way that I’m about to. “I missed you, Mickey.”

I close my eyes and lean my cheek against her. That name is for us. Roman is who I am to everyone else: The boy whose parents didn’t want him the second he was born, and neither did his grandparents. Roman is the one who interrupts in class and can’t sit still. The one who’s pure mischief and going nowhere in life.

Even after all these years of Bella being able to pronounce her r’s, only she says my real name with something other than disgust.

Mickey and Roman are one and the same, but Mickey is just for her. It’s the name that has my heart ratcheting because it means I’m her home. She feels safe with me and never wants to lose me, just like her Mickey Mouse. I could die happy knowing she calls me that.

At one point, she became too embarrassed to call me Mickey because someone told her it was cringy. I beat him up and tried convincing Bella not to listen to him, but because I was young and stupid, I didn’t realize what the name really meant to her. I’ll never take it for granted.

“I missed you too,” I mumble into her hair.

“I—” She tries pulling away, but I don’t let her go. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I swear I didn’t know. I swear. They told me to pack my things—I thought they were kicking me out, and a truck came. I wanted to tell you. I tried so hard—”

“It’s okay.”

Her tears soak my shirt as she trembles against me. “I didn’t want to go. But they didn’t give me a choice. They made me—”

“I know. It’s okay, Bella.”

“I tried to fight them, but they wouldn’t let me leave. I wanted to see you before I left. I promise, Mickey, I had no idea. I didn’t want to leave you.”

A sob escapes her as she catches her breath. I pull her away from me and cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up at me. “I understand. I know you would never leave me.” I thumb away her tears. “None of that matters anymore; you know why?”

Her bottom lip quivers, and I almost lose it. “Because you’re back, and neither of us is going anywhere without the other. You hear me?”

Hesitantly, she nods.

“You will never be alone again. I swear on my life. Wherever you go, I’ll be right there. We’ll always find each other. I’m not going anywhere. It’s a promise. We’re forever, Princess, and nothing will ever come between us. Do you understand?”

She sniffles. “Yes.”

“Say it.”

“We’re forever.”

“Swear it.”

“I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

I grin. “Why?”

She narrows her eyes, but wipes her tears away as she raises her chin. But all I can see is the string bracelets fastened to her wrist. Not one. Two. “Because you’re a crazy asshole, but I love you for it.”

I think I stop breathing. I think my brain has stopped working altogether. I’ve never heard the word before. Not directed at me, anyway. Is that what it sounds like? Is this the word that describes the feeling in my chest every time I think about her? She said she loves me. The words repeat over and over and over.

She loves me. She loves me. She loves me.

Bella loves me.

“A little overbearing. Impulsive. Kinda frightening,” she continues.

“Do I scare you?”

“Never.” She frowns. “Not anymore, at least.”

I look away dramatically, deep in thought, as I force my fingers to peel away from her skin. “I think we should change that.”

I need to see her smile. I need to get my old Bella back—the one who isn’t so frightened of shadows.

She scoffs. “I wouldn’t say golden retrievers are scary.”

That might single-handedly be the most offensive thing anyone has ever said to me, but there’s a mischievous grin on her lips I don’t want to disappear. That is my Bella. The one who snaps and then licks the wound later… Sometimes. Only if I don’t piss her off again.

“Hellhound is more accurate,” I say as I nudge her toward one of the benches.

As embarrassing as it was, she read Percy Jackson to me a few years ago as a way to practice her speech—and because the only way I can sit still long enough to read a book is if she’s reading it to me. Greek mythology became my whole ass personality after that. There was some kind of Greek reference in my drawings for so long, I am officially a master at drawing armor.

“Eh.” She shrugs and bites the inside of her lip. “You’re harmless. You’re more like a handbag dog; all bark and no bite.”

She’s all shit, and she knows it. But Jesus Christ, I’m hooked on every word that comes out of her mouth because she’s finally back. I’ve waited so long, and it was all worth it.

Bella, ever the timid princess she is, lowers herself onto her seat far too gracefully. I plop down onto the bench in a heap, which is far more fitting. Especially when a can of spray paint is in my bag—it’s my newly acquired hobby.

I shove my hand in my pocket to stop myself from reaching out for her, and my fingers brush against the cotton strings of the bracelet. I run my tongue over my teeth as I pull it out and show it to her. “I, uh.” I clear my throat. “I accidentally broke it.” She blinks at the red and black tangles in my palm. I’ll admit, it’s a little worse for wear from living in my pocket. “And you’ve kept it on you?”

“Of course. It matches my complexion.”

Her brows knit together, but it’s filled with understanding. “I can make you another.”

“No. Can you fix it?”

She shakes her head, and I hate it. I’m not surprised. It’s ripped past the point of return. All the edges are fraying, and the knots have come undone. Only a miracle could salvage it.

Her delicate fingers fiddle with one of the string bracelets around her wrist—the red-and-black one that’s an exact replica of the one I broke—and she unfastens it.

Time seems to slow as she grabs my hand and fastens it around my wrist. She was wearing me.

She was wearing me.

She was wearing me.

She was wearing me.

“Don’t break it this time,” she says with a playful bite.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, reaching for my bag. I’ve been busy all week, and I can’t wait for the look on her face. “I got you something.”

She stills. “Wait. What do you mean you got me something? How did you know I was going to be here?”

I smirk. “I know everything.”

Bella slaps my arm, but it doesn’t hurt. She’s the only one who could get away with it. “You prick! You knew I was back, and you didn’t even say hi?”

She’s so adorable when she’s angry.

I wink at her. “Had to make you work for it.”

Bella gives me a look that tells me she thinks I’m insane. Yeah, probably, but she’s the only person who makes me feel this way. I’ll put all the blame on her for this one.

“As I was saying,” I drawl, and take out the crumpled bag. I don’t wrap presents—that shit just ain’t for me.

Bella once said, “It’s what’s on the inside that counts,” so I’m going to hold her to it.

“I got you something.” I hold the bag out to her, and just before she’s about to grab it, I snatch it just out of reach. “Manners, Princess.”

Those big brown eyes of hers turn into slits. “Please.”

“Please, who?”

She sighs, but there’s no mistaking the excited tilt of her lips. “Please, Mickey.”

God, it’s so good to hear her say my name. “That’s better.”

She holds out her hand expectantly, waiting for the bag, but when a breath passes, her expression turns hesitant, then worried, then scared, all in a matter of two seconds. The heat in my blood returns because that’s not something my Bella does. Not if I can help it.