Prompted by: Princess Jane
“I love you, Tom.”
I can’t say it back.
Not because I don’t love her. Not because it isn’t true. But because…
It’s too damn true. I love her too much. Far too much.
And right now, I can’t afford to fall apart. I need to keep my head on straight.
So, instead, I ask, “Are you going back to sleep?”
My voice is slightly strained. If she notices, it doesn’t show.
“Nope,” she replies, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before hopping out of bed. “I’m gonna brew us a pot of happiness while you put yourself back together again.”
I know she’s only teasing me.
She just doesn’t realize how right she is.
I do need to put myself back together.
I don’t even bother physically.
I don’t even bother with my other leg.
I don’t even bother caring.
It doesn’t matter this morning. Only one thing matters. And it sure as hell ain’t what I look like.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly rise with the crack of dawn and follow her into the kitchen.
She’s standing at the coffee maker in nothing but my discarded t-shirt from last night.
Absolutely, breathtakingly, excruciatingly perfect.
I come up behind her and lean down to wrap an arm tight around her waist. The forearm crutch slides toward my elbow as my hips pin her securely against the granite edge. Reaching around with my other hand, I place my heart down on the countertop…
At long last, she whispers, “Tom.”
Now her voice is trembling, “Are you proposing?”
“Maybe,” I murmur, burying my face into her hair. “Are you saying yes?”
She’s breathless, “Maybe.”
I’m breathless too, “I love you, kiddo.”
What’s the prompt for next week, guys?
Make suggestions below. 7 words or less.