When she came six months ago, I hated it. Now, I love it. Sylvie is willful and stubborn. For every smile she gives me, she scowls ten times as much. I’ve never met someone so hardheaded and desperate to show her disdain. I wish I could return that disdain, but somewhere in the last six months, she’s grown on me. And it was long before she started climbing into my bed every night around Christmas. It was her fire. Her passion. The way I recognized that level of heat was because I could feel it too. It was as if she spoke a language I understood. I never intended to fall in love with my wife.
