“Really?” I whisper, the self-conscious side of me unsure whether to believe him. He leans in closer, gazing into my misty eyes with ferocity. “I’m not a poet, Alina jaan, but I believe the universe conspired to bring us together. To be with you this close, to hold you and kiss you and tell you how grateful I am for a woman like you. There isn’t a limit to how much I love you. Your black-and-white hair, your soft, soft skin, your double-jointed elbows, your gorgeous ass—I especially love your ass in those black Levi’s you wear.” I punch his shoulder playfully. “And you, sweetheart. I love you.
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