"Yes," she says softly, but with firm resolve in her voice, she's silk-wrapped steel, and my chest tightens just looking at her. I follow her into the bedroom, then into the bathroom, where she's already cleared the mats from the floor and set a towel out on the edge of the sink. The hand vacuum is already in thecorner, ready to clean up the hair that falls. Every detail has been thought through, of course.
When I take the razor out of the box, she smiles at its pink color. I had spent over an hour reading reviews, comparing models, and making sure to buy the absolute best one I could find in the store. Sophie wraps a towel around her shoulders, and I attach the appropriate guard to the razor.
Sophie pauses and looks at herself in the mirror, turning her head one way and then the other, not vanity. It looks like she’s saying goodbye. I turn on the razor, and the soft buzzing noise fills the bathroom. Sophie’s eyes grow sad, for just a moment, before hardening with determination.
She straightens her spine and takes a deep, slow breath.
Meeting my eyes in the mirror, I step behind her and wrap my arm around her shoulders.
"Ready?"
"Ready," she nods once, firm and brave.
I press a kiss to her temple, inhale the soft, familiar scent of her, and then gently—so gently—bring the razor to the side of her head.
The first tear falls from her eye after the first pass, the lock of dark hair falling to the floor, and I feel my own eyes stinging now.
"Brave girl," I whisper, my voice catching, a little rough at the edges. In the mirror, her glassy eyes meet mine, and she offers me the softest, sweetest smile I've ever seen.
The second and third passes are the same: a couple more tears—a little bit of sorrow and loss —but also something like healing. With every lock of hair that falls, it looks like she's letting go—of grief, of fear, of shame.
I murmur the words directly from my soul, meant for no one but her, and Sophie's tense shoulders drop more and more.
"You're safe..."
“I’m so proud of you..."
"God, you're stunning..."
"I'm here, I've got you..."
Sophie closes her eyes and breathes, leaning back against me. Her body is a soft, trusting weight against mine as I continue working slowly around her head. I keep my movements deliberate and methodical, and I realize that this is more intimate than anything I've ever experienced. The trust, the hope, the love coursing through my body threatens to overwhelm me.
When Sophie's eyes open and meet mine in the mirror, I almost fall clean over. I see everything I’m feeling reflected back to me in her eyes. It's not unrequited, it's balanced. It's true. She smiles radiantly at me, and I gently turn her head toward me, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. The tension in her body eases a little more, and I keep going until there's no more hair left on her scalp.
When I click the razor off, the silence feels deafening.
I gently brush the rest of the hair off her head, and Sophie gently pulls the towel off her shoulders, tossing it in her hamper. For a moment, neither of us moves, just keeping eye contact in the mirror until her gaze shifts to her own reflection and she shakily exhales.
She steps a little closer to the mirror, gently running her fingertips over her scalp and looking at herself like she's a brand new person...
But all I see ismy Sophie.
Her beautiful face is now unobstructed by her hair, giving me a clear view of its gorgeous shape. The curve of her jaw, the soft slope of her nose, the delicate arch of her eyebrows—every detail is absolute perfection.
"Good Lord," I breathe before I can stop myself.
"What?" she asks, her eyes looking a little alarmed. "Do... do Ilook okay?"
"You are so damn beautiful, Sophie," I tell her, the truth spilling out, unfiltered. Reaching up, I cup her face between my hands, appreciating her up close. "Wow..."
Her eyes look soft, but she snorts and jokes. "Even when I'm looking like Dr. Evil?"
"Very shagadelic, baby," I do my best—terrible—Austin Powers impression.
She giggles, the sound bright and loud, the light slowly coming back to her face and chasing away any lingering shadows. That laugh is worth everything, and I'd embarrass myself a thousand times over to hear it.
I had never really had the whole foot-in-mouth thing before meeting her. I was better with my words—I mean, my entire career revolves around them—but Sophie just allows me to lower every defense I've ever built. I've never been so thrown, so tilted upside down for a woman before her.
