A smirk formed on his lips. “Was itthathard to say?”
My shoulders fell. “Not hard, just . . . true. I love you so much, Asa. You’re notjustmy lil light thang. You’re my everything.”
His eyes fluttered closed and he rested his forehead against mine. “It feels so good to hear you say that,” he whispered.
“I’ll say it anytime you need to hear it, with no hesitation.” I kissed his brow. “Until I can’t talk anymore and you have to wheel me around in a chair and change my adult diapers.”
He barked out a laugh.
“And I love your son. I want every day with you. I want nights. I want dinners. I want fried cauliflower.”
“You can keep that shit.” His gaze softened. “I love you, too.”
“The last few months were hard for you, for all of us,” I continued. “But you have been a bright spot in my life. Even during some of my darkest days. And that didn’t start a few weeks ago, a few months ago, or even a year ago. It started the night you slid up to the bar to shoot your shot, told me you wanted to do a lil one-two with me.”
The corners of his mouth quirked up. “And a three-four.”
I giggled, resting my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead, his hands sliding to my ass. Peering up at him, I said, “Everything changed that night. And everything that happened after it brought me here. To you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “So I guess I said all that to say . . . I wanna be where you are. I will even run on that treadmill if it means I get to be near you. I want to teach Ezra everything I know. I want to see all his firsts, go to every sports match, and every graduation.” I didn’t realize I was crying until he brushed the tears off my cheeks. “I just want us to be a family. I want you.”
Asa lifted me into his arms and pressed his mouth against mine in a searing kiss. “I would love that. Forever.”
ASA
Three months later
“Happy birthday to you!Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Chunk Chunk! Happy birthday to you!”
The room erupted into loud cheers and applause as Ezra grabbed a handful of cake and smashed it into his face.
Rissa moved to Michigan yesterday.
And my son turned one year old today.
If someone told me six months ago that this would be my life, I would’ve told them they were crazy as hell.
When Gemma died, my world tilted on its axis. I didn’t think I could ever be this happy again. Not without my best friend. Not without my sister.
But . . .
She’d come to me in a dream last night. She was beautiful . . . healthy, happy, restored. We peered up at the sky, talked about Ezra, about how big he was and how I showed him pictures of us as kids. I hung a framed picture of her in his bedroom and told him stories about our childhood. He didn’t understand that shit, but I promised to never stop sharing his mother with him.
We laughed when I told her his first word.
Ma.
It felt like a sign that I was doing something right.
Then she hugged me, kissed my cheek, and before she disappeared into a cloud, she said, “Take care of our son. And propose to Rissa.”
This morning, I bought a ring. It wasn’t fancy, just something I could bring home today. We would switch it out later.
“Hey.” Rissa wrapped her arms around my waist. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed hard. “Perfect.”
She beamed up at me. “Good. There’s cake everywhere, though.”
Gripping her throat, I pulled her into a kiss. In front of everybody and our mamas. “Which means he’ll be cake wasted later.”
