More than touched, I found myself downright tickled that this time, in this moment, he held me as if I might try to get away. Regardless of his honor, of his internal fight to love or to follow the rules, when he was with me, he was really with me. I’d never felt so loved in the absolute, unconditional sense of the word. Of course, I mused, it helped that I could feel his every feeling. Yet, even without that uncanny ability, one I still hadn’t adjusted to, trying to pick apart my love from his, my fears from his, my wonder from his, he made me feel adored and treasured. On top of that, he made me feel undeniably beautiful even if I let my media-filled brain in opposition with the mirror tell me a different story at times.
On top of all this, he knew me, every single little thing about me. He’d watched, listened, felt me at every moment of my life. I had no secrets from him. The freedom of this, the love despite it, blew my mind. My smile hurt my face as my heart thumped in my chest, feeling that if it were not for my breast bone, it would soar far from me. It beat and fluttered, ached and skipped beats. I held back a giggle to think I might have to have the thing checked for arrhythmia or some other possibly fatal heart condition. Either way, I’d die now a happy woman no matter when my time came. According to Lex, that would be some time.
Funny how just a few hours in time could make a life complete. Yes, I wanted more time with him, every second I could wrangle, but if they didn’t come to pass, I’d had it all, more than most get in a lifetime of love, of happiness, and of peace. Peace, the word echoed through my head and brought to the forefront of my thoughts my father. I’d spent so much of my childhood missing my mother to the point of barely living, even while pitying my father for his weaknesses. What occurred to me now like a hammer to the head was that the man had been far from weak. He’d loved so fiercely, so freely, that in the absence of that love, he’d become but a shell of a man.
It didn’t mean he didn’t love me. Somehow I’d always known that. More, the disappearance of his other half, in the most full sense of the word, had left him only half a man. He had given me what he could, loved me with all he had left, I believed now. Blessing of all blessings, to some degree, I’d always understood that fact.
“I love you,” I said to the air, to the spirit of my father that lingered with me.
“I know you weren’t talking to me, but let me just say that I love you, too,” came a husky, sleep-laden voice in my ear.
I struggled to turn to him, so he loosened his full body grip on me until, face to face, he could embrace me. Both of his arms came around my upper body and both of his legs wrapped around mine. Rather than crushing me, he gently rolled us until I rested on top of him. Despite the fullness of my figure. You’d have thought me a mere light blanket over him, one he cozied up under. I’d never tire of that lightness he made me feel, or in contrast, the look in his eyes as he took in my generous curves.
“I wouldn’t change a thing about you,” he whispered.
“What, you know what I’m thinking now, too?” I teased, a little flutter of my heart revealing my slight insecurity suddenly, if this were true.
I mean, I had no problem with him knowing everything about me, but sometimes my head was a scary place to live in. The way I worked out the world sometimes bordered on insanity. Add to that, I often worded out that insanity through tapping out words on my laptop in unfathomable worlds. Of course, my view of actual reality had altered to include some of those paranormal elements.
“No. I can’t read your thoughts. It’s just, when you’ve watched someone as closely as I have you, and for so long, you start to reference different fluctuations in feelings with what they are doing, and that reads into having a good idea what they may be thinking. What I just felt usually coincides with you looking in the mirror. I felt the tinges of it, and insecurity brought on by a cruel world, and then it lifted, like it has when I’m with you, only when I’m with you. I hope that means that you comprehend just how beautiful I think you are.”
“I guess I see it, feel it, but at times I struggle to understand it. The world has had much, much more time with my brain.”
“I guess. But, you’ll adjust. I’ll make sure of it. I plan on telling you for the rest of your life how stunning, alluring, and shapely you are in my eyes. Simply beautiful.”