“Are you happy?” I ask Caz, tilting my head to properly look at him, to study the familiar curve of his jaw, the deep dimples in his cheeks when he smiles and pulls me closer. The city rises up behind him, and if someone were to assign me an essay about home again, I know exactly what I’d write. “I am,” he says softly. “Are you?” I breathe in the sweet scent of magnolias from the gardens, feel the spring air on my skin, the scratch of his jacket against my neck. His presence beside me, warm. Whole. My heart threatens to overflow. “I’m so unbelievably happy right now,” I tell him. And I mean
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