Page 113 of Lucky 22

And there it is. The look in his eyes changes. Softens.Brightens. Like we just unlocked a shared secret.

“That week to ourselves…” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Thehotel, the rooftop restaurant, all the shopping and sightseeing. It was aperfect week.”

“Mmm…if you don’t count the factthat you were injured and were there for physical therapy,” I correct,laughing, even though I don’t actually care because the memory is warm andglowing in my chest. “You complained every single day.”

“I didn’t complain,” he says, mock offended. “I sufferedsilently. Bravely.”

“Yes, you did.” I pat his chest and fight the urge—again—toask how he’s feeling.

He smiles once more, softer this time. “Being with you wasthe best therapy in the world.”

I lean my head against him, inhaling soap and skin andsomething uniquely him. “That feels like a lifetime ago. We were such babiesback then,” I murmur. “Trying to figure everything out. Trying to figure usout.”

He hums in agreement. “Yet somehow, this still feels likethat beginning. Like every time we end up somewhere new, life resets a little.Like we get to remember who we were before everything got…big.”

I know what he means. Before the flights and the cities andthe distance and the schedules. Before the goodbyes that always feel too soon.

“This was completely unexpected,” I say. “This move. I knowyou mentioned the possibility of a trade, but…”

“Yeah.” His thumb drags slow circles over my shoulder, thetouch grounding and tender. “I think this will be a good place, where we canmake wonderful memories. I love all the memories we make together, and I knowthere’s so much more to come.”

I close my eyes, breathing that in.

Then, another feeling creeps up—the one I’ve been pushingdown. He senses it immediately. He always does.

“Hey.” His voice dips, the tone gentle. “Talk to me.”

I exhale. “I just…sometimes, it all hits at once, you know?Another move. Another city. Packing up. Leaving because you left. Leavingbecause I need to. Leaving because we’re always chasing where your life goesnext and hoping mine can follow.”

He cups my chin, so I have to meet his eyes. There’s nohesitation there. No uncertainty. Just steady, unwavering love.

“Ella Rose,” he says quietly, “I know our lives are a bitunconventional, but we know it won’t be like this forever. I am so incrediblythankful for you because I would simply be existing through all these moves ifyou weren’t here beside me.”

“Christian…”

“No, I’m serious. Because you’re brave and strong and you’renot afraid to build a life instead of waiting for one to happen to you.Everything we have is because of you. You take care of me. Us. I know I canhandle any move, any trade, because you’re beside me.” His thumb brushesbeneath my lip, tender. “But yeah… I know it’s a lot. I know I ask a lot of youby…existing the way I do. By doing what I do.”

“You never ask,” I whisper. “And that’s almost worse. Younever ask, and I still go.”

He smiles as if it physically aches. “That’s because we’re ateam. I don’t need to ask. You wouldn’t for me either. There will come a timewhen I will blindly follow you. We do things together. Always.”

It settles something inside me that’s been rattling eversince I got on the plane yesterday.

“I just hate when we have to live in separate places,” Iadmit, my voice small. “I hate missing you.”

His forehead presses against mine, and everything inside mequiets.

“Me, too,” he murmurs. “More than I’ll ever be able toexplain. But tonight…you’re here. I’m here. We’re not missing anything. We’reexactly where we’re supposed to be.”

And just like that, every sharp edge softens. Every tightknot loosens.

He kisses me then—slow, patient, reverent. Not the kind ofkiss that says he hasn’t seen me in weeks, but the kind that says he intends tokeep seeing me forever. The kind that feels like vows without words.

When he pulls back, I’m smiling, and I don’t even realizeit.

“Welcome back to Arizona, Mrs. Lucas,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” I breathe, brushing my nose against his. “It’s goodto be home.”