Page 143 of Micah

If she’ll really have me.

The thought sneaks up on me, quiet but undeniable.

Yeah, I want this to be ours now.

All of it—the cabin, the ranch, our lives.

Ours.

I don't know if it's too soon to think that.

Probably.

Hell, definitely.

But I can't stop myself.

Somewhere between changing the filters in her van and kicking down the back door of The Watering Hole, I quit imagining a future that didn't have Sloane in it.

I don't expect it to be easy.

Life doesn't work that way.

I've seen too much.

Lost too much.

Yeah, I know the world is messy.

Cruel.

Unfair.

People lie.

People leave.

Bad things happen to good people.

I can't change any of that.

I can't promise her she'll never have another bad day.

I can't promise she'll never cry again.

But I can promise this.

I'll spend every day I've got trying to make her world a little softer.

A little safer.

A little happier.

I'll fix what I can.

Carry what she can't.

Stand between her and whatever darkness comes knocking.