Kane inhales the scent of my hair and hums his agreement.
“Are you asleep?” I ask into the dark room.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Do you know how much I love you?” I kiss my husband’s wedding ring with a big smile.
He tries not to laugh, but I can hear it in his breath. I always get a second wind at night when he’s here, eager to tell him every detail he’s missed since he’s been gone.
“How about you tell me just how much in the morning, honey.”
I snuggle in tighter. “Tomorrow it is.”
“Sweet dreams.”
84. Until I’m Old and Gray
Kane
Seventy-five years old
Snow silently falling through afrosty window across a winter sunrise is Skylenna’s favorite sight.
I sneak as quietly as I can to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, hot chocolate, and warm her slippers and robe by the fireplace—dancing around the creaks in the floor. Setting cast-iron pots down on the flame as carefully as I can without making a loud clatter. I prepare the breakfast trays with my special handwritten notes I give her when I deliver a breakfast tray to bed. I clean off the table on the balcony, set cushions on the seats, and ensure there is no ice that could cause her to slip and fall.
My wife is usually exhausted after family and friends stay at the castle. She’s the sweetest host, ensuring everyone is comfortable and fed, and loves hugging and kissing on all of our grandbabies.
But when they leave, I like to help her relax.
This is my favorite part.
I feel like a kid as I tiptoe up the stairs. Despite my stiff old bones and waning muscles, I am in quite good health for being in my seventies.
And the thought of seeing my beautiful soul mate smile so big at a winter morning just the two us gives me a spark of energy.
I open the door slowly, avoiding the slight squeak of the hinges rotating.
With a cup of hot chocolate in my left hand and her heated robe and slippers under my right arm, I kneel at her bedside, loving the sight of her sleeping so peacefully. Her wavy white hair strewn across the pillow. Those long, curly lashes forming shadows across her cheeks. Skylenna has aged like an angel.
“Good morning, honey.” I gently blow the steam and rich scent of chocolate to her face.
But she does not stir.
“Blueberry pancakes, eggs, and a bowl of oatmeal wait by the balcony door.”
I consider letting her sleep longer, but don’t want the food to get cold.
“And yes, I added cinnamon sticks to your hot chocolate.”
I blow the steam in her direction again.
A strand of white hair inches away from her face. And my back goes pin straight. The robe and slippers slide from my grip. I set the cup down on her nightstand.
“Time to wake up, honey.” I lean forward to kiss the tip of her ice-cold nose. “Don’t make me eat this delicious breakfast all by myself.”
Another kiss on her frigid cheek.
“Kane…” Dessin shoves his way to the front.
