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LOL. Your editor might feel the same. I’m so proud of you, Zoey.
I sit on the chair, looking across the tidy yard. There’s lots of space for flowerbeds, a trampoline, and a pool, separated by a small fence. That warmed my soul when I saw it, knowing our toddling children won’t be able to access the pool unless we let them.
It’s not THAT impressive.
No, no, no. I won’t let my beautiful, talented wife put herself down. You showed me there’s another way to do things. You hammered those words out. YOU found an editor who’s a right fit for you. You decided to self-publish, and now look. You’re storming the charts without relying on my name.
I couldn’t have done it without you,I reply.You’re my inspiration. Is Peter annoyed you’re texting me at the gym?
Ha, ha. No, he’s in the bathroom and knows how addicted we are to each other.
Do you think the addiction will ever go away?
Nope, not even a little bit. I know I’m going to want you and need you forever.
I feel the same. It’s never going to fade.
It’s time for my set. I’ll speak to you soon. I love you, Zoey.
I love you so much.
Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes, letting the sunlight glow orange against my eyelids.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Jaxson
I grin as my phone buzzes on the desk. It’s never faded, the smile which appears every time my wife messages me.
It’s a photo, but not like the photos we first sent when things were getting steamy. Thingsstillget steamy, but since we live together and are all over each other as often as possible, there’s no need for photos anymore. A picture of Riley appears. She’s lying on her back in her crib with a big smile.
My heart melts every time you send me a photo,I text.
Does it make working difficult?she replies.
Nope, not even a tiny bit.
Are you lying to me, husband?she texts.Even if it DID make working difficult, you’d never tell me because I might stop.
I swivel in my office chair, fighting the urge to jump to my feet, forget my work, walk downstairs, and be with my family instead. We’re working alternate shifts, one of us doting on Riley as the other writes. Then we switch and keep going until we’ve hit our word counts. It’s a great setup, but we enjoy distracting each other.
You’ve got me there,I type,but can you blame me? She’s the most adorable baby who’s ever lived, and no, I’m not biased.
Hey, I wasn’t going to say that! I happen to agree!
In the end, I can’t stand it anymore. I quickly finish the sentence I was working on and stand. Thankfully, my writer’s block released its hold the day Mallory gave her blessing. Walking through our house, I admire all the feminine touches Zoey has added—the framed photo of all three of us after Zoey gave birth. She looks brave and beautiful in her hospital bed, the image seeming to glow with all the love. I pause outside Riley’s room, listening to Zoey, my soul warm, my world secure, everything going just as it should.
“Are you posing for Daddy? You are thecutest.”
Axel’s serving time for his crimes. Zoey’s writing career keeps getting better, and, best of all, our spark has never faded and shows no sign it ever will.
“We’re always going to be here for you. Always. If anybody threatens our perfect family, let me just say… your dad…”
“Would never let that happen,” I say, walking into the room.
Zoey spins, wearing one of my T-shirts as she often does on Sundays. Her face is somehow more beautiful since giving birth. It’s because when I look at her, I know what we mean to each other and to Riley. Our shared history is etched into her smiling features and her body. Damn, she’ll never stop being smoking hot, especially now that she’s even curvier since the birth of our daughter.
