Everyone Deserves Love
LILIANA’S POV
“Ronny! Wait—please, wait!”
My voice cracked as I chased after him, my sneakers hitting the stone path outside the mansion. The night air was cool, but my chest burned with panic. He was walking fast, almost storming, his broad shoulders tight, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Ronny!” I called again, breathless.
He stopped suddenly, his back still turned to me. His head dipped forward, like the weight of the world was crushing him.
I swallowed, my heart pounding. “Why did you run away?”
His shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath before he finally spoke, his voice low, raw. “Why did you do all that?”
I blinked, confused. “Do what?”
He turned his head slightly, though not enough to face me. “That… inside. The lights, the cake, the people… everything. Why?”
I took a shaky step closer. “Because we wanted to celebrate you.” My voice trembled, but I forced the words out. “Because you deserve it. Because you’ve got all your friends in there ready to cheer for you. People who care about you. People that love you.”
He froze. Then his voice, sharp and pained, cut through the air.
“Love?” He almost spat the word, his hand curling into a fist. “I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve anything.”
My chest clenched, but I moved closer anyway. “Ronny—”
“No!” He finally turned, his eyes blazing, his finger stabbing against his chest as he shouted. “I don’t fucking deserve love. My parents made that clear when they threw me away like trash. You think I don’t know what it means to be unwanted?” His voice broke, rough and jagged. “I wouldn’t have lived my whole fucking childhood in an orphanage if I deserved love. They gave me away!”
His voice cracked on the last word, the pain behind it so raw it stole the breath from my lungs.
My heart shattered. This man—the strongest, most terrifying, most powerful man I knew—was breaking right in front of me.
“I don’t even know them,” he whispered harshly, his throat working. “I don’t even know their names. And why? Because I don’t fucking deserve love.”
He turned away from me again, breathing hard.
My eyes blurred with tears. Slowly, I stepped around him, forcing him to look at me. His face was twisted, his jaw tight, his eyes red-rimmed.
I shook my head fiercely. “Don’t say that. Everyone deserves love, Ronny.”
“Not me,” he snapped, pointing at himself again, his voice rising like thunder. “Everyone but me!”
His words echoed in the night, sharp and cutting, but I didn’t back down. My chest heaved as tears spilled down my cheeks.
“Fine!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “If you want to keep lying to yourself, go ahead. But if I have to, I’ll soak you in love. I’ll drown you in it until you finally believe me!”
His brows furrowed, his lips parting like he didn’t understand me.
“Maybe your parents didn’t want you,” I sobbed, pressing my palm against his chest. “But I want you. We all want you. Can’t you see that? What’s wrong with you, Ronny? Why are you punishing yourself over something you couldn’t control?”
My tears fell faster, blinding me.
“Hey…” His voice softened suddenly, his hand lifting as if on instinct. “Hey, don’t cry.”
“I’m crying because you’re being an ass!” I burst out, swiping at my cheeks. “You’re standing here acting like you’re worthless when you’re everything to me. You’re everything!”
He stared at me, his chest rising and falling hard, his eyes softening like I’d just knocked the wind out of him.
I sniffled, clutching his jacket. “It’s all in the past, Ronny. You can’t change what they did, but you can build your own future. Start your own family. Do better than your parents ever could.”
For a long, heavy moment, he just stared at me. Then, to my shock, his lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk pulling at them.
“What?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you trying to tell me to get you pregnant?”
My jaw dropped. My tears dried instantly as I smacked his chest with my hand. “Ronny!”
He chuckled low, the sound rough but lighter than before. “Not funny,” I muttered, smacking him again.
“Okay, okay.” He lifted his hands in surrender, his smirk fading into something softer. He let out a long sigh, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head, pulling me into his chest. His arms wrapped around me tight, his chin pressing to the top of my hair.
God, his warmth. His heartbeat thumping against my ear.
I melted into him, gripping his jacket like I never wanted to let go.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against my hair. His voice was low, strained, but real. “I’m sorry for my reaction. You put so much effort into that surprise, and I ruined it.”
I sniffled, shaking my head against his chest. “No you didn't.” I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my lips trembling but smiling anyway. “Can we go in now? I got you a present, but… it’s for later.”
His brows arched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Later, huh?”
“Don’t get ideas,” I warned, jabbing his chest lightly.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me, then reached down to take my hand in his. His fingers laced with mine, strong and steady.
“You weren't sick yesterday, were you?" he asked suddenly, narrowing his gaze.
I bit my lip, guilt. “Nope. Just an act I had to make sure you didn't run away before today."
“God, this woman,” he muttered, shaking his head, though his lips curved into a smile.
My heart swelled so big it almost hurt.
Together, we walked back to the mansion doors. The moment we stepped inside, cheers erupted again.
“Happy birthday, Ronny!”
His friends rushed forward, clapping him on the back, pulling him into hugs. Some kissed his cheek, others shoved gifts into his hands. The room filled with laughter, music, the smell of cake and food.
And me?
I stood there, watching him—my brooding, broken, beautiful man—being celebrated, surrounded, loved.
For the first time that night, I felt whole.
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