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“So, who is she?” On this day, where everything feels like a sign, I don’t hesitate when I say, “My future wife.”
“California, huh? Did you know that’s my least favorite place?” “And when did you decide that?” “About two minutes ago.”
“Just think of this as one big game.” His tone is low and deep when he leans down to my ear and whispers, “C’mon wife. Play along.”
“I’m a cuddler, Ken. Are you a snorer? I hope not, but then again, I’ll probably snuggle you so hard you won’t be able to breathe anyway.” My eyes narrow. “Was that supposed to be romantic? Telling me you’re going to suffocate me.” “But in a loving way. I’m going to suffocate you in a loving way.”
“Eyes are up here, wifey.” “I’m a doctor, Rhodes. Aced anatomy, in fact. I know where your eyes are located. I just don’t care right now.”
Our wedding song is on full blast as Isaiah makes his way to the plate, but before he gets there, he turns back in my direction. With the entire stadium singing the song I walked down the aisle to, Isaiah extends his bat, points at me, and winks. He fucking winks. It’s the moment reality hits me… Miller was right. I think I might have a crush on my husband.
