“Fucking perfect, Kitten,” he rasps against my lips. “Such a good girl.” And like a fuse has been lit, that’s the last coherent sentence either one of us makes until we’re done.
* * *
Fifteen months ago, I never would’ve imagined I would become Mrs. Mark Barrett Lucas.
Everything we fought for and lived through—those we had loved and lost, the pain, the tears, and the broken hearts—all of it let to the moment earlier today when Kevin—having gone online and gotten ordained for the occasion—pronounced us man and wife in front of my mom, Kyle, and Marlee.
We now have a bright future stretched out before us, and after everything that’s happened, I’m more than ready to move forward with our lives.
We still play our little games, and we’ve more than made up for any time we may have lost being together.
But nothing compares to the night five months later when we welcome our son, Dillon Mark Lucas, into the world, my proud crying husband at my side.
“You’re the best game I ever played, Kitten.”
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t argue with him.
The End
