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“Go ahead, Jared,” I tell him.
“You sure you wanna marry this guy?” Jared asks Tatum.
“Never been more sure of anything,” she says, smiling at me, just me.
“You know you’re one lucky motherfucker, don’t you?” he asks.
“I know.”
“Good. You wanna marry her?”
“More than I want my next breath,” I say, lifting her chin with my thumb and leaning in to kiss her whether he says to or not.
“Well, congrats. You may now kiss... Well, there you go; they’re already kissing,” Jared grumbles. “Mr. and Mrs.... What the fuck is his last name?”
Tatum laughs into my mouth, and nothing else matters. She’s mine, I’m hers, and I will fight heaven and hell to make sure that doesn’t end for a million lifetimes.
She pulls back, tears flowing down her face as she smiles.
“This is real, right?” I ask, smiling just as broadly back at her.
Eight months later...
“With us today is USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and New York Times bestselling author, Tatum Longley.” The reporter smiles at the camera, and then back to me. “Thank you for coming in today to talk about your next release.”
“Thank you for having me.”
“This isn’t your first time topping the charts in the publishing world, is it?”
“No, I’ve been very blessed to have a great team of publishers and an editor who I owe it all to. I just write the books.”
“You started in non-fiction and were very successful. What made you switch to fiction?”
“My editor,” I say on a laugh.
“What, she just said you need to write erotic romance?” he asks, grinning.
“That’s a pretty accurate description.”
“And you just did as she asked?”
“I may have fought it a bit, but I trust her with my career.”
“But going from writing hard hitting books on foster care to mommy porn? That’s two totally different worlds.”
I nod. “You’d think, but really it’s not.”
He sits back and spreads his arms wide on the couch behind him. “How so?”
“Writers should write what they are passionate about.”
“Your character, Jonathon, in Breathe Again, was a gym owner,” he says, and I nod. “Rumor has it you met your husband, who recently moved here to New York City, at a gym in Detroit.”
I smile and look down. Angelo is in the green room with our baby, watching this. I wanted him to come out, but he said no way in hell.
“I did.” I nod.
“And was he your real-life inspiration for Breathe Again?”
Knowing I’m going to be in so much trouble for this, I laugh. “He was much more than that. Much of Jonathon’s POV was actually written by my husband.”
“Wow, that’s interesting. Why don’t we bring him out here?”
“He prefers to stay out of the spotlight, and that’s fine with me.”
“This next book, releasing tomorrow, did he help write it, as well?”
I nod. “Yes, Use Me is as much his work as it is mine.”
“But his name isn’t on the cover. Does that bother him?”
“My name isn’t on it, either.” I smile, using the same excuse Angelo used on me.
“So, will your future work be co-written with your husband?”
“My future, every part of it, is with my husband.”
“Your Jonathon?” the interviewer asks.
“My everything.”
“So you got your happily ever after?” He smiles.
“I really do have my happily ever after. A simple proposition and a forced changed in my life has given me a limitless future full of love, laughter, friends, and family. Most importantly, I have my forever muse, writing partner, and life partner.” I laugh. “My happily ever after.”
Angelo
I look away from the screen where my wife has just exposed that I am very much a part of her books, that I write with her. As I told her, for me, it’s not a job. It’s a way to get to know her wants and needs better. It’s a way to express how much I want her, the first woman who wasn’t family who I love, but with her it’s deeper, I love her with every part of me. Tatum, my first and last sexual partner. Tatum, the woman who turned, not only my world, but my life inside out, or should I say she turned it right side in.
I should be angry, but I’m not. The pride in which she talks about me, the faith, the trust, and the love she has for me is the greatest gift I have ever received.
“Your mother is someone to aspire to be, Adalyn.”
I swear she smiles at me, although all the parenting books would tell me I am wrong. I still don’t believe for a second that look is anything but a smile.
“I love you so much, Adalyn Maria Mazzini. So, so much.”
I hear the door open and look up as Tatum walks into the room.
“You looked beautiful,” I tell her honestly.
She laughs as she walks over to me. “I messed up, though.”
“You’re an author—you write; you don’t speak,” I remind her of what she once told me.
