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It’s simple biology. My amygdala sent a panicked S.O.S. to my hypothalamus, telling it we’re in grave danger. Because clearly my amygdala is a little dramatic. My hypothalamus responded instantly with “sir, yes sir” and passed orders down to my adrenal glands. And they deployed hormone soldiers like cortisol, adrenaline, and a handful of others, who didn’t march but RAN into battle. A battle I’m now losing because of those very soldiers.
It’s like I’ve got my own personal force field, made up of a bunch of sweaty guys in various states of undress. A guy could get used to this.
“One more thing—you will never be too much for the right woman. You’ll be exactly enough.”
I’ve found one of the hardest things about losing people you care about is the guilt of remembering the things they weren’t so great at. Thinking about their flaws and disappointments makes me feel like a traitor.
no two people automatically start agreeing on everything once they say ‘I do.’ So, they learn their differences and how to navigate them. What things are fine to disagree on—like pizza toppings—and where they need to come to a consensus. That’s marriage.”
“You blush like a sunrise,” he murmurs, the rumble of his voice making my breath hitch. “First a light pink, then a deeper flush, and finally, rose red. Not just in your cheeks. Here,” he says, tapping the end of my nose, then sweeping two fingers to my jaw and trailing them slowly down my neck. “And here.”
“I won’t let them deport you, hockey player.” His eyes snap to mine. “No?” I shake my head. “I think I’d like to keep you.”
His lack of confusion only sends me spinning into more.
