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“Christ, Ryder. You married my ex-girlfriend,” he says flatly. “No, I married my wife.”
The honeymoon phase will fade. We’ll get stuck in ruts and routines and probably want to kill each other half the time. But it doesn’t matter. He’s the one I’m choosing to do all of it with. Like you and Mom.”
I didn’t realize how difficult it would be, having a hot, six-foot-five hockey player husband. I want to bang him all the time, and that’s a real problem.
And ironically, it’s not my reaction he needs to worry about. He just called me immature and graceless in front of my asshole husband, my asshole brother, and my asshole father. That’s bad enough. But it’s the mama bear he triggered.
“I love you, you know that?” “Of course I know that. You tell me like every other second.” Now I pinch her ass. “Don’t complain about my I-love-you frequency or I’ll crank it down to zero.” “You would never.” She twists her head to smirk at me. “You love me too much.” She’s not wrong about that. “It’s okay,” Gigi consoles. She stands on her tiptoes, and even then, she can barely reach my lips. “I love you too much too.”
Life is…good. That’s not a sentiment I’m used to expressing. Or experiencing. But it is. I’ve got my health, my friends, my brother. My wife. Neither of us have any idea what the future holds. Nobody does. But I can’t imagine any future with Gigi not being bright.
