Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
She laughs and I want to kiss her so bad I can practically taste her on my lips. I wonder if she still wears that strawberry lip gloss I loved so much.
"Tonight is perfect."
"Can I pick you up?"
"Sure," she replies. "Let me write down my address for you. We're renting a studio apartment in a converted barn in Amherst." I wait as she digs through her purse and finds something to write on, then copies the address from her phone onto the scrap of paper.
"I know this is awful, but I keep forgetting the address," she says as she hands it to me. "I've only been there two weeks. I stayed at my dad's for a few weeks before I moved in with Rayne."
I take the paper from her and shove it into my front pocket.
"Tor," she begins, stopping to take a breath. "The message in the bottle was amazing. It really made me see everything so clearly. I loved it. Every night before I go to sleep, I read it."
"I was hoping you would."
"And I did make a wish that night."
My heart starts to pound as she moves closer to me and slips her hand into mine.
"You want to share it with me?" I lace my fingers through hers, not planning on letting her go. Ever again.
"I wished for you. And us. And happiness."
Stepping closer, I lift her chin to look into her eyes. "I can make that happen." I kiss her long and soft, my mouth lingering against hers, breathing her into me, wanting to devour her right here on the street. Her free hand clings to my arm like she's afraid she's going to fall over.
"I still love you the most," she whispers between kisses. "I never stopped."
"Neither did I. I never will."
I lean down and cover her lips with mine, and yes, she still tastes of strawberries, and of yesterday, and of tomorrow.
Epilogue
Kenzi ~ age twenty-two
Tor ~ age thirty-seven
I reach for him in a drowsy haze, but he's not on his side of the bed. Smiling, I climb out of bed and walk across the hall, wearing nothing but his huge white t-shirt to the nursery to find him sitting exactly where I knew he would be—in the rocking chair with the baby asleep in his arms and Diogee and Kitten at his feet. I have to stop in the doorway for a moment because the sight of him holding our baby, with his shirt off, all covered in ink, and his long hair flowing down his shoulders takes my breath away. Every time.
Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a dream. A year ago we had a small private ceremony at Aunt Katherine’s Inn. My father walked me down the aisle and gave my hand to Tor with a smile, making me cry tears of happiness. We spent two weeks there making love, and walking along the beach at sunrise and sunset, kissing and talking for hours on end. It was a magical way to start our life together and we decided we’d make a ritual to go back there every year for our anniversary.
"Tor," I whisper. "Why didn't you wake me? I would have come to rock her back to sleep." He's always getting up in the middle of the night to take care of the baby and I worry about him being tired during the day. I'm home all day so I can take naps when the baby does, but he has to stay awake at the shop.
"I want you to get some rest, Angel. I know how excited you are about your parents coming for dinner tomorrow. Or later, whatever time it is now," he grins sleepily. "I don't want you to be tired and stressed."
Slowly standing, he gently lays Tia down on her back in the crib and covers her with the pink fleece blanket before kneeling down to kiss her cheek. Tor is an amazing father with endless patience and love for his little girl, but I had no doubt he would be that way.
I stand next to him and stare down at our beautiful sleeping baby, and rub my hand down his muscular back. "I'm fine," I answer. "Just excited that they're coming. And a little nervous." It's the first time my mother will be coming over to our house and I want everything to be just right.
Turning, he puts his arms around me. "Don't be nervous. Just act natural like the doctor said, and if she veers off, just smile and turn the conversation back to the present. And try to remember to not call her Mom."
I nod, but still feel a bit of nervousness inside. Last time she saw Tia she thought she was hers and it was horrible taking the baby away while she sobbed in confusion. Baby steps, the doctor advised, as it’s only been a few months since she came out of the coma. And lots of patience. That's all we can do while her brain attempts to recover and remember her life. And us.