"I mean... because you didn't sign up for this," she whispers, sounding so tired and so broken. My arms tighten around her instinctively, keeping her from breaking apart. "You didn't signup for cancer, for a girlfriend whose appearance is going to change drastically. For a girlfriend who might die—"
"And my mom didn't sign up for her happy ever after to be cut short by a heart attack," I say, my voice quiet but absolute.
Her mouth snaps closed. She blinks once, twice, and I press a kiss to her forehead, giving myself a moment to find my words.
"Callum..."
"Grief tore her apart for a while after he died. She was the one who found him, who had to call an ambulance, knowing that he was gone already. She had to wait with his body as they came and declared him dead. She wasn't herself for a long time after he was gone, and honestly, there's still a piece of her that went with him."
Sophie reaches up and cups my cheeks, and I turn my head to kiss her palm before I continue, "And if she had known that from the beginning, if she had known about the agonizing heartbreak and devastation that she would have to go through one day, would she still have pursued my dad? Yes, she would have. Because that meant choosing him, choosing happiness and love, for whatever time that they had together. Those years she had with him were worth it."
A tear tracks down Sophie's cheek, and I pull her closer. "Any amount of time with you will be worth it, and I want it all. You are worth it, sweet girl."
She smiles at me and wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly, our height difference forcing me to crouch. I'm suddenly very aware of the soft things pressing against my abdomen.
And my mouth starts moving.
"And I mean," I admit, knowing my face is red. "Your breasts arephenomenal, just like every inch of you." She laughs, the sound vibrating through my chest and making me smile. "But they don't make you who you are. They're a part of you, butthey're not you. Also, I do have a bone to pick with them since they'reliterallytrying to kill you right now, so I say take them away."
"Callum..." she giggles, and I turn my head, kissing her temple.
"You're still my Sophie," I murmur against her skin. "My sweet, sweet Sophie. I just wantyou—in whatever shape you're in. With hair, without hair, without breasts, with them... when you're old and gray, and I am too, and we laugh so hard our dentures fly right out of our mouths."
"That's a long time you're talking about..." she says, pulling back to meet my eyes, searching.
"I know," I nod, my hand trailing up and down her back. "I don't know if you've met my mom, but she's big on manifesting. On speaking things into existence. Figure it's worth a shot."
She smiles at me for a long moment before she sobers, a little more serious as she admits in a whisper. "I want that too, Callum."
"You do?"
"I wantyou, Callum."
"I'm yours, Sophie," my voice is pleading now as I demand the only thing I'll ever demand of her. "Tell me that I'm yours."
"You're mine, Callum," she promises, eyes sparkling, no doubt in her voice. "Allmine. And I'm all yours. Onlyyours."
I lean down and kiss her, one hand holding the back of her head, the soft fuzz new but not unpleasant. The other wraps around her waist, anchoring her to me. I kiss her long and slow, savoring the feel of her lips against mine. Her taste. Her scent.
Then I do it again. And again. Because I can, because I belong to her, and because she belongs to me.
We spend the night eating comfort food, then cuddle together on her couch as we watch our movie of the night—my favorite.
Sophie's pressed right against my side, head resting on mychest, and our hands linked together across my stomach. I close my eyes through the movie, when the emotion comes bubbling up and threatening to spill over, when parts of the movie hit a little too close to home, and I press my lips against Sophie's head, feeling her burrow even closer in response.
"This is true love. You think this happens every day?"
I mouth the words against her head and pull her closer. I don't have the courage to speak them aloud, not yet. It's too soon, and I want Sophie to set the pace. I can be patient, because I adore this girl more than anything in this world.
And nothing—not cancer, not her ex-fiancé, or any insecurities—will ever stop that.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elise
I was born to win.
At least, that was what my mother always told me. Ever since I could remember, she called me her little winner. Her manicured hands gripped my chin tightly as she wanted me to feel the impact of her words, her saccharine-sweet voice telling me, "You are my grand prize, Elise Cabot."
