Bottoms Up (Getting Lucky)

“Papa!” Little Fion, Finley’s youngest, came running at me full-force, and I scooped him up, ruffling his bright red hair.

I listened tae Fion tell me about the dream he had just last night, one so elaborate I could picture the clarity and imagination in it.

“Sounds cool, huh?”

I grinned and chucked him under the chin. “Aye, sure does.”

“Mam!” he shouted and wiggled down until I set him on his feet and he could go after his mother. Finley picked him up and kissed his cheek, her husband curling a protective arm around her shoulders.

Aoife slid her hand back intae mine, and I looked down at her, unable tae stop my smile from spreading.

“I never think I can get happier, and each day, I am amazed that I can be.”

“Aye, lass.” I looked around at our family as they filed intae the cottage for supper. When it was just us outside, I turned tae face my wife and pulled her intae my arms, holding her tightly, knowing I'd never let her go. “Ah, my wee lass,” I murmured and buried my nose in her sweet-smelling hair. “Life truly is perfect with you in my arms. I love ye so verra much. So fooking much. Cuisle mo chroidhe.” Vein of my heart.

And that’s what she was and always would be.

“I love you too, Cillian.”

The sound of those words coming from her sweet lips, and her sigh of contentment and pleasure, were all the affirmation I needed that this woman was forever mine.

The End