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“She’s still working on it. She knows it has potential but has warned that big-time publishers don’t always care for small-time poets.”
Jane frowns. “You’re not small time. Your stuff is amazing.”
The rush of emotion I feel at her words fills me. “I’m glad you think so.”
She turns to me, and with a serious expression, she says, “I’ll always think so.”
We sat in front of the fireplace and ate our dinner, followed by a board game that Jane had brought, one that made us laugh more than we actually played.
Jane was currently doubled over in laughter on the thick, plush rug we were seated on, I watched her, my own laughter tapering off and had a thought. This… glimpse, maybe, into what our future could be. What she could add to it.
As far as I could tell, my futurewasher.
“Come here,” I tell her softly and hold out my hand. Her smile stays firmly on her lips and she moves toward me, straddling my lap, I lay my hand on her cheek and brush her tears of laughter away with my thumb. “Janie,” I whisper and she takes in my expression, noting my tone and the emotion that clogs my throat.
“Warren,” she says in return, leaning forward and laying her forehead against mine. Her hands sneak up over my chest and around my shoulders.
“I love you,” I say confidently, with no hesitation, no worry, no fear. I haven’t told her the words yet, even if we had declared them already in a somewhat odd and untraditional fashion, but I didn’t want to hold back anymore.
“I love you too,” she replies and smiles at me.
I peck her lips softly, then I say something that I hope she takes well. “I don’t want us to be a secret anymore.”
Jane pulls away and I watch as her face softens, her eyes taking in my face and absorbing my words.
We’ve been hiding for months and months, keeping our relationship on the down-low, keeping it a secret so we don’t poke the bear that is her mother. But I don’t want to do it anymore.
I will handle her mother. I’ll take whatever comments she throws at me and put up with it. Because I love this woman in my arms.
But… she’ll also have to deal with the brunt of whatever Beverly Leads throws at us.
“I’ll have your back,” I tell her, holding her tighter. “No matter what comes. I’ve got you.”
Something in my words, or my expression, must ease the worry she had, because she only smiles at me and says, “Okay.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that death will tremble to take us.”
-Charles Bukowski
Jane
“No need to be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I’m… pensive.”
“Pensive. Good word.”
“Thank you.”
“Not quite sure it’s right though, you’re definitely exhibiting some nerves.”
“I’mnotnervous.”
