“Talking?” I ask.
“Just being with you. It feels better when I’m with you.”
I smile against his chest, but it’s a mix of longing, of sadness, and of something else. Regret that we could have had this for the past three years instead of all the pain. “Yeah,” I say and my voice cracks. “I know. Me too.” I sniffle and refuse to cry any more before telling him, “Promise you won’t stop talking to me, Madox. Even if I get upset. I just need to know you love me.”
“I’ve always loved you. I never want to say the wrong thing.”
“Madox, every word that comes from these lips is kind. You’re so careful with me.”
“Maybe that’s why we work?” he asks jokingly, lightening the mood and I have to laugh. It’s a crazy sound that erupts from my lips. As if this is what a good relationship is.
“Is that what you think? We work?” I ask him and then push myself even closer to him. Any closer and I’d be on top of him.
“Given everything we’ve been through, and that we still love each other, I call that working.”
“That’s a good point,” I breathe out.
“You know I love you, right?” he asks me. I nod weakly but tell him, “I do. I know you love me.”
“And is it enough?” he asks before I can tell him I love him too.
“Enough?” I question him and he tries to explain but I cut him off to say, “Madox, you are more than enough, and your love is more than enough. You are everything to me.”
“So you’ll stay?” he asks me and then tells me, “I want you to stay with me.”
“You’re crazy to think I’ll ever leave you again.”
“Good. If you try to run, I’m reminding you of this.”
He’s crazy to think I’d ever forget any of this either.
When you’re young,it’s easy to say it’s only puppy love.
It’s easy to tell yourself sweet little lies to make it all better. Or even truths, like there are so many other men out there, this one was only a phase.
But deep down I always knew I loved him in a way where nothing else could compare, and he was the only man I’d ever love. We could both feel it. We just didn’t know how to show it and how to feel like we were worth being loved by each other.
It’s easy to be scared by that realization, regardless of when it comes to you.
This time, I know better. That intense feeling that brings out every side of me and doesn’t hide a smidgen of who I am from Madox. It’s love. Pure and raw and deep. Leaving me battered and bruised.
“I love you so damn much, Madox Reed.”
EPILOGUE
Sophie
One year later
“It smells so good,” I practically moan as I squeeze a lime over the diced tomatoes and red onion. With a touch of cilantro, the pico de gallo is almost done.
“Just needs salt and pepper,” I speak absently and then taste my part of tonight’s dinner. Groaning, I let my eyes roll back and announce, “It’s so fucking good.”
Madox only chuckles at me. “There isn’t going to be any left by the time the quesadillas are done.”
“So be it,” I tell him and go in for another bite.
“I love doing this with you,” he says.