I scoot my chair closer to her, the sound instantly irritating my ears. I take both her hands into mine and bow my head. “I know we’ve been talking all this through but it’s going to take a while for me to get over what we did.” I lift my head to meet her eyes. They look just as worn as mine. “I’ve got as much to work through as you do, and even though I’m letting go of what you had been doing over the past year, it’s hard for me to grasp that you are doing the same. Forgiving me, all of us, for the horrendous things we put you through. It’ll take time but I’m willing to work it all out.”
Sliding off the chair and onto my lap, she wraps her arms around my neck. My hands can’t help but rest on her thighs, and I take the opportunity to slide her skirt up a bit.
“Casen, I’m willing to put in the work.” Her soft lips brush over mine. “I know you’re worth it.”
Something she said comes to mind. “You said IF you have kids. Do you not want them?”
She’s pensive for a moment, looking up to the ceiling. “I do. As long as the right person comes along. I hadn’t thought about children as much until the night we had the big blow out.”
My brows furrow in question. “What? Why?”
“You had asked when I was going to tell you. If it would be after our first or second child or after we got married. It gave me, for a brief second, a vision of little dark haired children being raised in the suburbs.”
I feel the constriction of my heart. I remember saying that to her. I was so angry and heartbroken. “I did say that, didn’t I.”
“Do you still see that happening? With us?” she shyly asks, her voice lowered.
I kiss her. I kiss her like I’ve never kissed her before. With so much passion and love poured into every caress of our tongues. “I see it all the time. In my dreams, in my reality. I would love to give you my last name and have you pregnant with our children.”
She stands up, sliding the zipper down on her skirt and dropping it to the floor. “I say we start practicing.”
