Page 107 of Range
9:14a.
Josiah was due in court in one hour and forty-six minutes. Yet, here he was. Well-groomed with his eyes trained on me.
“What’s happening?” I inquired. “Wha–”
A kiss silenced me.
Another followed.
Josiah pulled me closer, forcing my head onto his shoulder.
“You’re in good hands, Sunshine.”
There wasn’t a rebuttal. There wasn’t an internal battle. There was only harmony. Hope. Happiness. And, honor.
My lids grew heavy. Not with exhaustion, but with content. I allowed their closure as I employed one of my greatest senses. Olfactory. I scribbled the scent of his cologne in my head and on my heart. I wanted to remember it. I wanted to remember him. Forever.
Note for note.
Word for word.
Year after year.
Decade after decade.
I slipped my hand underneath his arm and rested it on his lap. He placed his hand on top and threaded my fingers through his. Josiah’s lips gently tapped the back of my hand.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
And, a fourth.
Parts of me cried that I didn’t know were capable of releasing tears. Silent tears. Joyful tears. Painful tears. Tears of relief. Tears of content.
“Siah.”
“Yes?”
“If I fall. Catch me,” I whispered.
“With pleasure,” he responded.
I pulled in a deep breath before releasing it slowly.
9:28a.
My eyes reopened as the wheels of the truck stopped turning. Fear gripped my heart. Minutes felt too much like seconds.
“Settle down, Sunshine.”
“Where are we?”
A perfectly manicured lawn was behind us. A garage wall was in front of us. Three vehicles lined the spaces next to us in the four-car garage. My neck snapped in every direction until I met Josiah’s eyes again.
“Home.”
