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His swallow is audible. “And what does that mean?”
I smile. “It means I want you to move back in.”
His breath rushes out, and then he laughs. The sound is so loud and full of glee that my heart grows as quiet as the night surrounding us.
This is right. This is exactly where we’re supposed to be.
A split second later, I’m flipped onto my back, and his hard body covers mine. “You might want to think twice about that.” He presses a trail of hard kisses down my neck. “You won’t be getting very much sleep.”
He nuzzles my neck, and I giggle. “How is that any different from now?”
“It’ll be worse when you’re my wife again.”
“I’ve always been your wife.”
He stills, and the air grows thick. “Yes.” His voice is a rasp.
The next hour passes in a heavenly blur. His movements are slow and almost reverent. He understands as well as I do that this commitment we’re making is a beautiful risk.
It’s impossible to reassemble the shattered pieces of our hearts, but we can fill the empty spaces with this exquisitely imperfect joy.
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Forgiveness: The Second Epilogue
