My mom would say that too.
(Lena wouldn’t, she adored Darius and already told me shewanted him as her brother.)
But I knew it.
I knew it now and ten minutes ago and when he tickled me somuch last week, disaster nearly struck because I wasthis closetopeeing my pants.
And when he helped my dad, who had no sons, but had startedtreating Darius like one, put in our new kitchen cupboards.
And when Darius took me out to a fancy dinner on ourone-month anniversary.
And again on our two-month one (you get the picture).
And on our first date in the wildflowers.
And all the times in between.
I knew it.
I might not know everything about myself, who I was or who Iwas going to be.
I just knew, whoever that was, I’d be her with Darius.
“So, yeah, it’s gonna be special,” he concluded.“When I saythat and when we do that.”
“Okay.”My reply was soft.
His answering smile was tender.
I touched my fingers to it in wonder, even if I’d seen itbefore.It was just that wonderful.
I lifted my eyes to his.“But can I say it now?”
His arms around me got tighter and he shook his head.
But he said, “You don’t have to say it, baby.You show itall the time.”
Okay, the tears were coming.
So when I said, “I try,” it sounded croaky.
“You succeed,” he assured.
I was glad.So, so glad he knew I loved him.He deservedthat.And more.
Everything I could give him, everything, it was his.
To communicate that, I kissed him.
He kissed me back then ended it before it got too much forthe both of us (See?Annoying!).
And then we cuddled on the couch and watched a movie.
I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the movie.
I was reveling in the fact that this would be my life.Meand Darius and talking and kissing and TV and nights out and family and friendsand knowing Darius had been right back in the stacks of Fortnum’s when he toldme nothing would ever cut me.
I’d found him, and I’d done it early.
