Viola fell silent.
"Do you think I married you because of the size of your waist?" he continued, his voice dropping into that deep, intimate tone that always made her stomach flutter. "Do you think I chose you because you had a pretty face and a body that fit into certain dresses? Honey, I could have spent my entire life surrounded by beautiful women, and none of them would have been you."
His fingers slid beneath her chin, tilting her face up.
"I want you. Not some version of you that existed before we had responsibilities, before we had children, before life decided to put us through hell. I want the woman sitting on my lap right now. The woman with the swollen belly, the soft cheeks, the stubborn mouth, and those beautiful eyes that keep making me forget what I was supposed to say to put her mind at ease."
Viola let out a small, embarrassed laugh.
"My cheeks aren't swollen."
