by Sylvia Day
“What’s next?” she asks, her breath soft and warm as it drifts across my skin.
“Hmm . . . Dinner?”
She pulls back, and I turn to face her. I can see so much of our son in her features, her mannerisms, her laugh. I’ve realized over the past weeks that he’s still with us, in little and big ways.
“I’ll cook,” she offers.
I feel the last of my tension drain away. “Yeah?”
“I’ll make spaghetti. You always liked my spaghetti.”
“I do. I’m looking forward to having it again.” Such an understatement. To be able to revisit our past, even something as simple as a favorite meal she used to make for our family, is something I’ve longed for until it was a hollow ache inside me.
Her hands run lightly up and down my arms, her gaze on the art that covers them. “This must have hurt.”
“That was the point at first.”
Teagan looks up at me. “I think your tattoos are very sexy.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Heat rivaling the burn of the scotch spreads through me.
“Is there a meaning to the design?”
I nod. “They’re mazes. One begins and ends at my heart; the other begins and ends at the pulse point on my right wrist.”
Her eyes widen as she takes that in, her gaze following the swirls and angles of the designs.
“David was my lifeblood,” I explain. “You’re my heart. Whatever twists and turns life takes, everything begins and ends with you both.”
Tears glisten in her eyes but don’t fall. “I’m going to trace them both,” she tells me, her voice husky with emotion. She grips my biceps for balance as she lifts to her toes to kiss my jaw.
“That might take a while,” I point out. “Years, possibly.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She rests her cheek on my chest.
“I love you,” I tell her, my hands on her hips. Again, the words are an understatement, incapable of conveying the depth of emotion I feel.
Pulling back, Teagan smiles, and I see the brightness of it chase some of the shadows from her eyes.
“I love you more,” she answers.
“I am totally okay with that.” I lean back against the sink and pull her into the space between my spread legs, holding her close. I’ll be holding her close until I take my last breath.
“One step at a time, right?” she murmurs.
“Yeah, Doc. That’s how we’ll do this. One step at a time.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My thanks to Hilary Sares, for editing my rough draft.
Thanks to my agent, Kimberly Whalen, for wielding the sword while I wield my pen.
Thanks to my dear friend and fellow author Karin Tabke, for too many things to list here.
And thanks to my editor, Anh Schluep, for approaching me to write for her. The end result is this story. Teagan and Garrett mean so much to me. I’m grateful for the time I spent with them.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © Meghan Poort
Sylvia Day is the #1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, #1 Sunday Times, #1 Der Spiegel, and #1 international bestselling author of over twenty award-winning novels sold in more than forty countries. She is a #1 bestselling author in twenty-eight countries, with tens of millions of copies of her books in print. Visit the author at www.sylviaday.com.