And then we both lose it with laughter, giggling as we fight against gravity.
“Screw it,” I finally say, succumbing to the broken bed. I roll my body over hers, feeling the last rumbles of her laughter against my chest.
She smiles up at me through the moonlit darkness. Beautiful and soft.
The corner of my mouth curls. “I thinknowis a good time to talk about that kiss.”
“Yeah, I bet,” she snickers, playfully hitting my shoulder.
Gently, my fingers caress her cheek then brush her hair back from her face. I feel the lift of her chest below me as she sucks in a deep breath. There’s a deep ache in my chest, a feeling that I want this forever.
It could be so perfect.Wecould be perfect.
“C’mon.” I shift our bodies, rolling us so that I’m on my back with Camila at my side, giving her room to rest her head on my chest. I lift my arm, letting her cuddle into me before I wrap it around her shoulder. I’m overcome by the smell of citrus and honey from her hair, and I even close my eyes as I breathe it in. Thankfully, Camila doesn’t know I did that.
“You comfortable enough?”
Her head nods under my chin. “You?”
Too comfortable, but I go for the generic answer that won’t freak her out. “Yep.”
Silence falls over us, and eventually, exhaustion wins.
Pure. Peaceful. Perfect.
Camila
Hessand I spent the Fourth of July riding four-wheelers, taking turns on the homemade zipline, playing horseshoe, and eating classic American food.
As the afternoon stretches late, I find myself in the kitchen beside Anita. She wipes down the counters while I rinse dishes and stack them carefully in the drying rack. Through the open window, the breeze carries the sound of her grandchildren playing while her boys holler from a very competitive cornhole game.
Anita stops in front of the window, glancing outside. “I give that game five minutes until all four of them are on the ground, wrestling over the rules.”
I laugh. “Is that usually how it ends?”
“They’re all just a bunch of little boys in men’s bodies.”
“You did a good job raising them. They’ve been so welcoming to me.”
“If you can handle their teasing, they’re not so bad.” Anita glances at me, her smile soft but full of pride. “Nothing in life has mattered more to me than raising my children and seeing them build families of their own. Everything else is just extra.”
I pause, setting down the dish towel. “How did you do it? I mean, how did you build such a close-knit family and marriage and keep it going all these years? What’s the secret?”
She chuckles, shaking her head like I’ve asked a silly question. “There’s no big secret. It just takes a lot of work. A lot of choosing love, every single day, even when it’s hard. And maybe a little luck, too, in choosing the right person who’s willing to put in that same amount of work right beside you.”
Work.
That part I understand. I’ve always believed in hard work. It’s what got me through law school, what built my career, what’s carried me when I didn’t have anyone else to lean on. Work has always been my weapon, my shield, my answer. I can outwork anyone. But I’ve never thought about applying it to marriage, tomymarriage.
“I’m going to tell you what the preacher who married us said.” Anita leans against the counter, facing me. “He said every marriage needs to remember KFC.”
My brows furrow. “The fast-food chicken place?”
A soft blow of laughter puffs out. “Kindness. Forgiveness. Commitment. Those three things are the real secret to success. Now, I know there are plenty of sad situations where those three things don’t apply. But in most cases, with a good man and a good woman, those things will strengthen a relationship.”
Anita’s words stay with me as I step out onto the porch and find Hess. Two kids hang from each arm as he spins in a circle until they fall off from dizziness. Another nephew runs and jumps on his back, causing him to groan and fall over in fake defeat. His smile is wide and happy as he looks up at me andwaves. I wave back, laughing to myself. He looks so at ease, so natural, like he was made for this. Made for family. Made to be the kind of dad every kid would dream of having. And made to be a husband who loves and respects his wife. And suddenly, for the first time since I was a child, I let myself wish. Not for success, not for control, not for independence. But for something softer, fulfilling, and more impossible.
For this.
