She brushes the damp hair off my forehead with a smile.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “That was incredible. We should’ve gotten married years ago.”
“You said it. I think I had a stroke.”
We laugh.
There are a few specific moments in my life that I consider as the greatest. That first night with Kate. The day she believed I loved her and told me she felt the same. The day James was born.
And this . . . this moment right here just made the list.
I pull her close and touch her face. My voice is rough, heavy with emotion, as the words are torn from my lungs. “I love you, Kate. I’m going to love you forever. And whatever comes after forever—I’m going to love you then too.”
My words bring tears to her eyes, She kisses me gently, softly. Then she traces my lips with her finger. “You can bet your ass that I’m going to hold you to that, Drew Evans.”
So that’s it. The epic conclusion.
I think we’ve come a long away, don’t you? From that guy you first met with the “flu,” camped out on his living-room couch?
Boy, was he a f**king mess.
Thanks for sticking around, for not giving up on me. I know that at times you wanted to. But . . . it was great having you along for the ride.
If this were a fairy tale, now would be the time you’d read, “And they lived happily ever after . . .”
But that’s just too boring for us.
So instead, I’ll tell you this:
We lived . . . the same way we loved: with passion, tenderness, and laughter. And every day—every f**king day—to the very fullest.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “That was incredible. We should’ve gotten married years ago.”
“You said it. I think I had a stroke.”
We laugh.
There are a few specific moments in my life that I consider as the greatest. That first night with Kate. The day she believed I loved her and told me she felt the same. The day James was born.
And this . . . this moment right here just made the list.
I pull her close and touch her face. My voice is rough, heavy with emotion, as the words are torn from my lungs. “I love you, Kate. I’m going to love you forever. And whatever comes after forever—I’m going to love you then too.”
My words bring tears to her eyes, She kisses me gently, softly. Then she traces my lips with her finger. “You can bet your ass that I’m going to hold you to that, Drew Evans.”
So that’s it. The epic conclusion.
I think we’ve come a long away, don’t you? From that guy you first met with the “flu,” camped out on his living-room couch?
Boy, was he a f**king mess.
Thanks for sticking around, for not giving up on me. I know that at times you wanted to. But . . . it was great having you along for the ride.
If this were a fairy tale, now would be the time you’d read, “And they lived happily ever after . . .”
But that’s just too boring for us.
So instead, I’ll tell you this:
We lived . . . the same way we loved: with passion, tenderness, and laughter. And every day—every f**king day—to the very fullest.
