An arrow struck through Astrid's heart.
She had heard compliments before. Plenty of them. People called her beautiful all the time.
But this?
This was different.
Mika hadn't just called her beautiful.
He had accepted her imperfection—the part of her she hated most and turned it into something unique.
Something precious.
Something beautiful.
And he hadn't stopped there.
He had told her she was getting more beautiful every single day.
That was the compliment every woman secretly longed to hear.
That they were becoming more beautiful with time, not less.
That age and experience and even loss only added to their beauty, rather than taking away.
Because of these words, her eyes went dreamy.
Her heart overflowed with love and longing.
All the shame, all the embarrassment, all the negative feelings she had carried for so long—they were swept away completely.
All that remained was joy.
Happiness.
Pure, overwhelming love.
