Lying on top of him, his hand running up and down my back, heart beating against my ear slowing down, I smile and press my lips to his chest. “Is love when the sound of his heart has become your favorite lullaby?” He presses his lips to the top of my head. “I’ve loved four things in my life and have lost two,” I admit to him, and probably to myself for the first time. “Soccer and an … ex?” “Soccer and my father.”
