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This is a story about me falling in love with myself. Yup, being a twenty-nine-year-old divorcée will do that to you. The only person I want to be in love with right now is me and me alone.
“Stop hiding from me,” I say. “I want to see you, all of you.” She bites down on her lip and looks off to the side—a flash of insecurity—so I grip her chin and bring her attention back to me. “Don’t,” I say. “Don’t get lost in that head of yours. Stay present with me.” I tip her chin up. “Stay here…with me.”
“We have to make sure we’re checking things off that list, Pips. Because once we do, it means we can add more. Together.”
“Fuck,” he whispers as his large palm splays against my back. “I’ve missed this.” “Why did you wait so long?” “Because you needed to be loved in a different way.”
“You really went out of your way to do all those things for me.” “Pips, I never went out of my way. It’s all things I wanted to do.” I bring my hand to his cheek. “I want to say you’re too good for me, but I don’t think that’s the case, Wilder. You’re…you’re just perfect.” He smiles. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“You know, married for the summer, but after that, we were done.” She looks me dead in the eyes. “I mean, that probably was going to be the case, but I think I knew the minute I felt those piercings—there was going to be no parting whatsoever.” I let out a bark of a laugh and nod my head. “I’m oddly proud of myself.” She kisses me again and whispers, “I love you.” “I love you too, Pips.”
“I can’t unsee her. She…she captures my full attention. I can’t imagine anyone else ever passing up on the opportunity to talk to her, to joke with her, to spend time with her. She’s such a bright light that I never want to lose.”
