by Amy J. White
I asked more, wanting to learn as much about the man who made the woman sitting in front of me so perfect.
Lilah told me about the difficulty of her childhood, how she hated the long nights away from her dad, how much her mom worried each night with her husband on the streets.
“My dad and I were close. Much closer than I was with my mom. He taught me so many things about being strong in the face of bullies, how to ride my bike and so much more. When he died, it devastated me. I started getting into fights, skipping classes.”
She paused, her head lowered with the saddest look I’d ever seen in her eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever recover.”
I let my memories take a break, getting up to go get the bottle out of the warmer, returning to the chair to feed Adam. My head lulls to the cushion.
God, I’m tired.
Still, the memories continue.
Lilah ended her story by telling me how the letter I gave her at the pier started her healing even if she didn’t acknowledge how she felt about me. She told me she kept it on her at all times, reading it when the nights grew too cold.
“You saved me, Casey. I don’t think you realize how much you did for me.” The words don’t come from my memories.
I open my eyes to see the beautiful woman leaning against the back of the sofa. Her eyes are heavy lidded, hair mussed every which way. She makes her way closer, kneeling in front of me.
A cheek rests against my knee, hand stroking my thigh. It’s a moment I don’t want to ruin, where all three of us are together.
“I did what I could, babe. What else could I do?”
“You could’ve treated me like everyone else.”
I laugh quietly since Adam has started falling asleep in my arms. “I don’t think that was ever an option.”
When Adam finally goes back to sleep then Lilah walks with me to his crib where I lay him down for the night. He sleeps better than any baby I’ve ever known.
A playful pinch to my ass tells me Lilah doesn’t plan to go back to bed so soon.
I look over my shoulder to find she’s wrapped herself around my waist, a teasing grin on her lips.
I offer my own smile. The one she calls devilish. “Careful babe. Keep that up and we might need to get another crib for the spare room.”
This makes her chuckle. “And that’s a bad thing?”
No, it’s not. I plan on having more than one child.
But for now, I want to be with my wife.
Thank you
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