Page 96 of Collins
Always full of her laughter and stubbornness.
That spunky old woman changed everything for us, brought us together in ways I’ll forever be thankful for.
I wish she could see us now.
See that we made it through the worst of it.
That we didn’t just survive it, we came out the other side stronger. Together. Still standing. Still choosing each other.
I let out a slow breath, glancing around.
“Well,” Johnnie says softly, brushing her hands on her jeans, her cheeks flushed pink from the hours of cleaning and hauling boxes. “I think that’s it. The realtor says we’ve got until this evening.”
She turns to me, something tender and uncertain flickering in her expression.
“What should we do until then? I don’t want to just…leave. Feels like I should take in every last second before it’s gone.”
God, she’s beautiful.
Not just in the obvious ways, but in the way she feels things so deeply. In the way she holds onto moments like they matter.
Because they do.
My gaze drifts over her, slow and unhurried. Something warmer beginning to stir beneath the surface.
“Well,” I whisper, stepping a little closer. “I can think of a thing or two to pass the time.” I give her a subtle, suggestive lift of my brows.
She laughs, but it’s soft. A little nervous. A little breathless.
And it hits me harder than it should.
Because it’s been weeks.
Weeks of holding her. Kissing her. Falling asleep with her tucked against me like she belongs there—like she always has. But never crossing that line. Never pushing.
It just hasn’t felt quite right.
Everything was too heavy. Too fragile. Like one wrong move might crack something we were still trying to piece back together.
But now?
Now the air between us feels different.
Charged.
Like something’s been building quietly, steadily…waiting.
I reach for her, fingers brushing her wrist before sliding into her hand and intertwining with hers.
The restraint that’s held us back for so long…
It’s starting to slip.
“What do you say we make one last memory here? A good one. Erase anything less than,” I say, brushing lips against her cheek and nudging her nose in the way that always makes her smile. I love making her smile.
Pink cheeks turn to red as she buries her head into my shoulder.
“I think that sounds like a great idea.”
