“Because the bed was cold without you in it.”
That did something to me. The idea that she noticed when I was gone. That she wanted me there.
I’d spent months learning to be alone. Convincing myself I preferred it.
Turned out I’d just been waiting for the right person to share the silence with.
“Five more minutes,” I said. “I want to watch the sunrise.”
“Okay. But I’m stealing your coffee and your body heat.”
She tucked herself against my side, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
We stood there as the sun cleared the mountains. The creek rushed in the background. Birds were starting to wake up. The whole mountain was coming alive with the new day.
“Hey Thorne?” Maddie said quietly.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
She said it casually. Like she’d said it a hundred times before. Which she had. But it still hit me the same way it had the first time—like something essential clicking into place.
“I love you too.”
“I know.” She grinned up at me. “You tell me every morning.”
“And every night. And usually a few times in between.”
“It’s excessive, sure, but I’m not complaining.” She gave me that little grin that I’d come to love so much.
I kissed the top of her head. “Good. Because I’m not planning to stop.”
We watched the sunrise in comfortable silence, and I thought about how different this was from a year ago. How lonely this porch had felt. How the sunrise had been beautiful but empty.
Now it was full. Rich. Complete.
Because she was here.
“We should probably call Kate,” Maddie said eventually. “It’s our anniversary. She’ll want to gloat.”
I groaned. “Do we have to?”
“She did bring us together. Even if her methods were completely unethical and borderline criminal.”
“She lied to both of us.”
“And we’re very happy she did.” Maddie pulled out her phone. “Come on. Let’s make her day.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket to FaceTime my sister, already smiling because I knew Kate was going to be insufferable about this.
Kate answered on the first ring. “It’s your anniversary.”
“Good morning to you too,” I said.
“One year. One year of marital bliss that I engineered. I’m a genius. An evil genius, but still a genius.”
“You’re something,” I agreed.
