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“Why don’t you call me lucky anymore?”
He shrugs, scrubbing my body with a rag, “It doesn’t really fit.”
I hold his face to pull his gaze to mine, “Are you kiddin’? I have you. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
He smiles sheepishly and bats a hand to my chest. I know he just feels awkward about emotions. As good as he’s gotten at expressing them, he’s still my Echo.
“I love you.” he says as I rinse his hair.
When every soap bubble is gone, I pull him from the water and switch places with him. I kiss his forehead. “I love you too, baby. I’ll always try to show you.”
He pecks my lips, “You don’t have to try.”
The End
