I brushed my hand over his soft whiskers and cupped his cheek. “I know, but I’m here now, and I won’t miss another one.” He took my palm, placing it to his lips. His breath was hot against them as he said, “I want to read what’s on your shirt.” I stepped back, so he could. He read it over and over, until his eyes misted. “I fucking love you, Marn.”
