Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I’m shocked. “Leon, that’s so amazing.”
“You always saw me as someone who was pure and good and—”
“You are pure and good.” I plant my hand on his solid jaw and caress the warm satin of his skin. He must have shaved again when he got home because his skin was way too smooth for the early morning shave to have lasted this long. “So what if there’s a bit of asshole thrown into the mix? I know you’re not perfect because no one is, but I know what I signed on for. And I’m still signed on if you want me to be.”
“I gave you so much time to hate me….”
“Nope. Not going to happen.”
“I fired you,” he protests.
“And I found this great job.” I swallow thickly, pushing down the big lump that’s trying to lump up even more. “Anything could happen tomorrow, Leon. You don’t have to protect me from you.”
He nods. “I know. You destroyed any illusions I had of myself. You destroyed the man I was, and thank god because he was shite. I kept telling myself I wasn’t for you, but I kept wanting you anyway—more than just your body. I want your laugh, I want your smile, I want your midnight swims, your grilled cheese and fish, and your soft little fingers against my temples. I want you to feed me marshmallows and turn on the exact piece of classical music that I love, even though I never told you I loved it. I want you to keep making me feel like I’m going to explode and die from happiness, and I want to make you feel the same way.”
Ouch. I’m definitely feeling it right now. “We don’t need a happily ever after,” I tell him in response. “We just need a happily moment by moment by moment, all the best moments we can make. Does that make sense? Because it kind of sounded better in my head.”
He seals his lips over mine, kissing me starry-eyed and crossed-eyed. “It makes perfect sense.” He studies me, and I love seeing him this way. Not pulling back but open with his eyes clear and free of pain and his body so much lighter. “Can I feed you sandwiches and pickles?” He smiles, too, now. There is laughter on his face and real laughter booming from his throat.
“Only if I can feed you back.” Is that weird? Romantic? Kinky? Erotic? Whatever. I don’t care. It’s just us being us and enjoying us, which is all I could ever want.
EPILOGUE
LEON
“More Lord Poo Ultra-Cool Doodoo, Dada! More!”
“No, I want to hear about the time Auntie Kitty caught Dad’s hair on fire.”
Two-year-old Galen and four-year-old Tarl rarely agree on anything. They love each other because they’re brothers, but they’re as different as two boys could ever be. I’m more than prepared for the bedtime round of bickering, and so is Darby. She smiles at both our boys, her face soft with love. I lean in across the bed and press a kiss on her forehead. Neither boy says anything because they are more than used to our affection for each other. There is no gagging about the kissing and no laughter. To them, this is what a family looks like—parents who love each other and both of them more than anything in the world.
“You were there when Auntie Kitty caught Dad’s hair on fire,” Darby says patiently. “It was just last month at your birthday party.”
“But I want to hear you tell it,” Tarl insists. He sticks out his lip in a pout. “Please, Mom?”
Darby’s as soft as I am. “Alright, I’ll tell that story. Then we read Lord Poo Turd Ultra-Cool Dude Doodoo again.”
“Yay! But I want it nowwww,” Galen insists.
I stroke my hand over his dark downy head of curls. “Hang tight, bud. Part of life is about sharing and compromise. Your brother gets a story, and then you get your story. Because we have to tell you two stories, it actually means you get to spend longer in our bed before we put you to bed in your room for the night. Extra time before bedtime.”
“Ahhhhhh,” Galen says, so serious as a two-year-old that it makes me burst out laughing. He’s adorable and so easygoing—the most beautiful baby right from the time he was born. Darby was only in labor for two hours the second time. Galen came in a rush, and the birth was easy. I’m saying that as someone who didn’t have to endure the pain or heal from it after, so maybe she’d disagree with me on that.
Tarl, however, was the exact opposite. Darby was in labor for thirty-three hours with him, and even though he slept through the night from the start, in his waking hours, he was always raring to go. He was seldom satisfied with anything we did. He wanted to see the world and was frustrated by his lack of mobility, even when he was a freaking newborn.