I head into the living room, and Violet bumps me with her hip on her way to the coffee maker for a refill. She’s barefoot, in yoga pants and a tank top with her blonde hair piled on top of her head and no makeup. My gaze follows her, lingering for a beat. Sometimes I catch myself staring at her, wondering how she could possibly be real. Wondering how she’s with me. Wondering how the hell I got so lucky. Right now is one of those moments.
