Page 86 of Wicked Mafia Devil
"There. She kicked again. You felt that, right? Tell me you felt that."
"I felt it." His voice cracks. His hand presses harder against my belly and our daughter answers with another kick, stubborn and fierce, and the look on his face is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. "Oh, our baby girl is strong."
"Just like her momma. What did you expect?" His eyes glisten. That same raw emotion from the first ultrasound breaks across his face, unguarded and unashamed.
"I love you, jungle flower." His lips touch mine with reverence in the middle of the dance floor.
I tilt my chin higher and take the kiss deeper. "I love you too, devil."
We dance. His hand stays on my belly where our daughter kicks between us. Her first movement delivered on the dance floor of the building where she was created, in the arms of parents who almost lost each other and fought their way back.
Happily ever after isn't a destination. It's a choice you make every day, in every small moment, with every act of trust and forgiveness and stubborn, reckless love.
I choose this. I choose him. I choose us.
