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This feels like I’m someone’s everything.
Now I know it’s just what I need. The constant permission he gives me to do what feels good.
It’s foreign yet comforting, and my body holds no protest to his hug. He holds me as if I were important to him, needed in order for him to get through his day.
Wanted to give you a hug and tell you how much I missed you this week.
“Well, word of advice, my friend. That boy has chased you for years. If you’re enjoying his help, may I suggest you stop running and give him some kind of sign of approval.” “And how do you suggest I do that?” She shrugs. “He doesn’t always have to be the first to make a move, you know.”
“How do you ignore the Live, Laugh, Love sign on your bedroom door or the fact there’s a Bless this Mess entryway mat just outside.” Her head falls back in contagious joy, that slender throat protruding against her fair skin. “You have a canvas painted with a glass of red wine hanging in your kitchen that says, ‘You had me at merlot.’”
Wasn’t exactly trying to let the boys see just how hard I get for my wife.”
Watch the moment he finds Reese tracking us from the third row. Watch as his smile falls at the realization of what this moment actually is. His eyes bounce around the cabin as he puts the pieces together, and I can visibly see the second it hits him. He looks devastated, as if he thought I was holding his hand because I wanted to and not because others needed to see it.
“On the worst day of the year, I had two of the best days of my life.”
“I told her you were coming over and she asked if she could tag along too.”
“But it also feels like I won the fucking lottery knowing you’re no longer hesitant towards me. I like that you’re a tough one to crack, because when I say something stupid and get to see you smile, I know it’s only for me. And that smile, it’s all warmth.”
“God.” His exhale is full of agony. “Why can’t you see it? Why can’t you see me?”
I want to sleep in my bed with my wife.
“You live, laugh, love me?” “God, so fucking much.”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
Every morning, he asks me to pick out his outfits to ensure they match.
I find Isaiah out of the corner of my eye, heat creeping up his cheeks.
“I’ve heard that name so many fucking times,” Ryan laughs to himself. “For fuck’s sake,” Isaiah mutters under his breath.
That right there is another first. Having someone across the room looking for me, checking on me. It seems like such a simple act, but it’s something I’ve always wished for and didn’t think I’d have.
I’ve never met a man prouder of a piece of jewelry than Isaiah Rhodes is of his wedding ring.
and watch my wife open her arms and take the initiative to hug Stevie first, then Indy. Indy towers over her and that just makes them laugh even more.
“And that’s your wife.” I can’t help the small smile that creeps across my lips. It’s my favorite thing to hear.

