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How the hell did this become my life?
I still don’t know.
The way she fits right in like a missing puzzle piece to complete my soul seems too natural.
Without any warning, I’ve got a whole family.
It’s almost too easy looking after Nelly-girl together, making our house, doing damn near everythingtogether.
It shouldn’t be this easy after the tragedy and scars and absence.
But I guess that’s the thing about old wounds.
Once you stop picking at them, they start healing awfully fast.
And healed is what I am.
I’m a new man, greeting each morning with a smile because I get to love Ophelia Sanderson like she never left.
Can’t say I care if it feels too easy sometimes.
Maybe love is worth fighting for, but true love ought to come natural. Being with someone who just fits you so well that not even ten years apart can change how you mesh together.
That’s not to say the last few weeks have been a cakewalk.
Ophelia’s still been beating herself up over everything.
For not knowing enough, for not protecting her little sister, for not pulling some magic rabbit out of her hat that would bring her mother back to life.
Even if she doesn’t say it out loud, a man can tell.
Only this time, instead of pushing me away and crawling up in her head, she let me stay.
Let me hold her on those cold creeping winter nights when her soul got too heavy to bear.
Let me kiss her tears away.
Let me see those little moments of shaky hope as the calls came in from the specialists every day, confirming steady progress by inches for her whole family till she knew they would be out of the woods.
Then that beautiful, grateful personality came out in full joy.
The same joy she’s showered me with over and over again.
Sometimes with her words.
And sometimes, it’s just the way we get tangled in the sheets, fusing our bodies together like we were always meant for each other. So wrapped up in ourselves that sometimes we forget to sleep.
There are a few mornings I dragged myself in to work completely worn out and haggard. Sleepless because I couldn’t get enough of her.
Got plenty of shit for it, too, when every last one of the guys knowsexactlywhy I’ve got bags under my eyes.
The only one I haven’t threatened to punch yet is Lucas—mostly ’cause he went through the same bullshit when he finally captured his hellcat of a wife.
Goddamn, I can’t wait to devour Ophelia again tonight.
But now isn’t the time.
Now, I’ve got to reach down in my gut and find the right words for this news.
