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“Sweet dreams, princess.”
She sighs.
The butterflies glow brighter.
I smile.
Then quietly close the door.
Calla is waiting on the balcony.
Moonlight spills across the distant mountains beyond our home, silvering the trees and the garden below.
She stands beside the railing, wearing one of my shirts.
An old habit.
One I’ve never discouraged.
I approach from behind and slide my arms around her waist.
“Hello, wife.”
She leans back against my chest.
“Hello, Your Divine Hotness.”
I kiss her neck.
“Miss me?”
“Terribly.”
“An understandable affliction.”
She laughs.
I tighten my arms around her.
For a while, we simply stand together.
No arguments.
No divine catastrophes.
No miniature dragons setting fire to the curtains.
Just the woman I love and the quiet night surrounding us.
“She’s getting stronger,” Calla says.
I nod.
“Yes.”
“Stronger than you were at her age?”
I smile.
