“It’s beautiful,” she whispers. I catch her tear on my thumb. “Stunning.” “Do you love it?” My gaze traces the shape of her heart-shaped mouth, my favorite good-morning kiss. Follows the delicate slope of her jaw up to her high cheekbones, where the sunrise always paints her first. Takes in the spirals scattered softly across her forehead, the ones I love to twirl around my fingers when she’s lying against my chest at night. I settle on those deep brown eyes, as endless as the sky above us, dancing with the same dazzling stars, and I smile. “I do.”
