“And then?” Her voice wavered.
“And then…” I shrugged. “Forever. We have until forever.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Healing doesn’t come right away — and even though I was still in pain, this time I embraced it, because the pain was a reminder that she had existed. The pain reminded me — she’d lived. Funny, how I used to think numbing my pain would make it go away. But the only way to fully rid yourself of the pain is to go against nature and embrace it. —Gabe H.
Gabe
My eyes roamed greedily over her lips. I couldn’t manage to pull my gaze away from her mouth as she took a sip of water and leaned back in her chair.
“Finished?” I stood and walked over to her side of the table.
“Yeah.” Saylor sighed. “No more fish.”
“So…” I held out my hand and pulled her to her feet then wrapped my arms around her. “About that last tear.”
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I thought that the whole fish throwing thing and naked cooking got rid of that last tear. Besides, enough tears have been shed on both ends, Gabe.”
“True.” I pressed a kiss to her mouth and smiled against her lips. “But I want to be really sure.”
“Really sure?”
“Yup.” I laughed. “I don’t want to leave any room for doubt.”
“Doubt about what?”
“The way I feel about you. The way I feel about us. The way I feel about everything.” I sighed and released my hold on her hands, taking a step back so I could gather my thoughts better. “Today was Princess’s funeral. But Kimmy? She’s been gone for four years.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I thought I’d feel broken forever.”
Saylor didn’t move a muscle.
“But…” I paced in front of her. “I don’t. For some reason, in her death, I finally feel whole. Like everything’s come full circle. But there’s still something missing.”
“More fish?” Saylor offered.
“You’re getting warm.” I smirked and purposefully strode toward her.
“Water?”
“Even warmer.” I grinned, tilting her chin toward my face.
“More… boats?”
“With sails…” I sighed. “And people who man them…”
“You lost me.”
“Saylor.” I kissed her mouth. “I’m missing you. You’re the final piece to the puzzle, the star on the top of the Christmas tree.”
“I have always wanted to be a star.” She grinned.
“Be serious.”
“Call me a star again.”
“Say…” I groaned her name. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Saylor’s arms snaked around my neck as she pressed her lips against mine, once, twice, three times. And then pulled back.