Chapter 10 - The Life She Earned
Three years after Valentine’s Day at the Clark County Bureau.
The morning light streamed softly through the skylight of our custom-built timber home overlooking the waters of Bainbridge Island.
I woke up to the smell of fresh dark roast coffee and toasted sourdough bread.
I stretched lazily under the warm down duvet. Beside the bed, a bassinet stood wrapped in soft white cotton. Inside, our four-month-old daughter, Maya, was sleeping peacefully, her tiny rosebud lips twitching in her dreams.
I pulled on a thick cashmere cardigan and padded barefoot down the polished hardwood hallway into the kitchen.
Julian was standing at the stove, flipping blueberry pancakes. He was wearing his favorite grey t-shirt and jeans, his dark hair slightly messy from sleep.
As soon as he heard my footsteps, he turned around, a broad, warm smile lighting up his entire face.
"Good morning, beautiful," Julian said, setting down his spatula, walking over, and pulling me into his arms for a long, warm morning kiss. "How did you sleep?"
"Like a baby," I giggled, resting my head against his broad chest, listening to the steady, comforting beat of his heart. "How long have you been up?"
"Long enough to make breakfast and check on Maya three times," he smiled, kissing the top of my head. "She smiled at me at six in the morning, Nora. I think she recognizes my voice."
"She loves her daddy," I murmured softly.
I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and stepped out onto our wooden back deck.
The morning fog was lifting off Puget Sound, revealing the majestic, snow-capped peaks of Mount Rainier in the distance. A cool, crisp breeze rustled through the evergreen trees.
Somewhere two thousand miles away, in a dusty desert city, Valentine’s Day was beginning again. Couples were lining up at Window Four, chasing quick thrills, making promises they hadn't learned how to keep, and mistaking noise for devotion.
I took a sip of my warm coffee, feeling the cool ocean air on my skin, and looked back inside through the glass doors.
Julian was setting three plates on the heavy wooden dining table—the table he had built with his own hands for our family. He looked up, caught my eye through the glass, and blew me a quiet, loving kiss.
May you like
I smiled, stepped back inside, and closed the door softly behind me.
I had given a foolish boy twenty-four hours to prove his love—and in return, the universe had cleared the path for me to find a lifetime of true happiness.
