Beth laughs, lighter now. Some of the weight seems to melt from her shoulders.
We haul the rest of the boxes inside. When we’re done, Henry claps me on the shoulder.
“I’ll leave you two to get settled,” he says, winking at Beth. “Don’t let him rearrange your things without asking first.”
After he leaves, Beth moves through the rooms again, but differently now. She’s seeing it all through the lens of permanence. She touches the back of the old couch like she’s testing whether it’s really okay to claim it, runs a hand along the counter that will be hers now, too, lingers over the dog-eared spines in my bookshelf like she’s imagining her own books beside them.
Finally, she faces me. “This is real, isn’t it?”
I cross the space between us. “Yeah. It’s real.”
She leans into my palm when I lift it to her cheek. “It’s a little scary.”
“I know,” I say. “But it’ll get better.”
She studies me. “Are you really sure? About this—about me?”
I don’t let doubt get between us. “I’ve never been more certain of anything.”
She draws a trembling breath. “Jack—”
I close the space and kiss her before the second-guessing can start. This time, she doesn’t pull away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BETH
I stretch, my body deliciously sore, and shift to find Jack still asleep beside me. His arm drapes over my waist, his hand resting on my hip as if afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
I trace my fingers across his bare chest. His breathing is steady, deep.
Sleep has softened his expression, making him look almost vulnerable. My heart swells with something warm and terrifyingly real.
He stirs and tightens his grip, buries his face in my hair.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep. “Morning, sweetheart.”
I hum and nestle closer. “Morning.”
His fingers drift along my spine. “Sleep okay?”
I nod against him and press a kiss to his shoulder. “Best I have in ages.”
He rolls onto his side, green eyes heavy-lidded but intent. Something deeper swims in their depths as he brushes hair from my face.
“Good.”
I bite my lip. I need him to know something, but the words feel overwhelming.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Jack goes still. His gaze locks with mine, unreadable for a heartbeat that stretches into eternity. My pulse quickens as fear creeps in. Maybe I said it too soon. Maybe—
“I love you, too.” His voice is low and rough with emotion.
A wave of relief washes over me, only to be replaced by something stronger.
Joy.
