Afterward, we lay tangled in his sheets, his arms wrapped around me and my head on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, steady and sure, and I matched my breathing to his.
“This is nice,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along my back. “Being here with you. Not thinking about work or the foundation or anything except how good this feels.”
“Mmm.” I lifted my head to look at him. “You’re getting soft on me.”
He tugged gently on a strand of my hair. “Turns out I like being soft when it comes to you.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
“I really do.”
“I could get used to this,” he said eventually, his voice drowsy.
“What, me hogging your sheets?”
“You in my bed. In my space. Being part of my life without having to hide it or second-guess it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Coming home to you everyday.”
“Every day sounds good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I tilted my head up to kiss him. “Now go to sleep.”
“I love you,” he mumbled, already half asleep.
I stayed awake a little longer, watching the city lights through the windows, feeling his breathing even out beneath my cheek. Wrapped in his arms with the sound of his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, I wasn’t worried about tomorrow.
Our love was enough to redeem us.
