It fills me with a sense of security and peace that only she can give me. Through her body, I can feel the most indescribable sensations imaginable. The aftershocks of pleasure alone could sustain me for a lifetime. The most mind-blowing aspect of all is that I get this forever, as long as my forever might be. I don’t know why I’m so fortunate, but I won’t deny myself this love ever again.
A tear falls down the side of Lily’s face as I pick up the pace again.
“I love you so much.” Her voice is full of emotion.
“I love you more. More than I could ever show you. More than I could ever express. More than anything.” Bringing my lips to hers, I kiss her senseless.
With our mouths and bodies connected, we experience pure bliss together. Our bodies find their release in unison in a symphony of love, desire, and pleasure. And I feel it all—without an ounce of guilt.
The morning sun finds us through the linen window coverings. I’m back to reality to find Lily and me in a connected heap of entwined limbs. The feeling of her soft skin against mine is one that I will never tire of. Her head rests on my chest, and I kiss the top of it. Her hair smells like it always has, and that comforting scent brings a plethora of memories back.
Over the past few years, my heart has hurt with such an intensity every time a memory of Lily took hold. Every recollection was so raw and so charged with emotion that I couldn’t stand to let my mind drift to those times. The memories would debilitate me, rendering me useless. I couldn’t do it, especially when Stella was still alive. I had to focus on my responsibilities.
But they flood my senses now, every one. And this time, they bring happiness and peace—finally. I’m so thankful because memories are something I have a lot of when it comes to Lily. I want to recall them without a stabbing pain. I want to recall them with the reverence and joy they deserve.
“What are you smiling about?”
I realize that Lily is awake. Her head is leaned back, so she can see me.
“I was just thinking back to when we were younger.”
“What part?”
“All of it really. We had so many amazing moments together.”
“Yeah, we did.” She sighs in agreement. “We’ll have so many more, too.”
“That we will, Little Love.”
“Starting with last night.” There is amusement in her voice.
I grin widely. “Yeah, last night was pretty amazing. It’s a night I won’t soon forget.”
“Or ever forget.”
“Agreed.”
Lily and I reconnected in every way possible last night. We made love until we physically couldn’t stay awake any longer.
“My body still feels like spaghetti.” She giggles.
“Mine is still pretty tired, too.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right, Jax?”
“I know that.”
Even though we talked a lot last night while our bodies recouped for another round, we didn’t really talk about the hard stuff. All of that has been like a giant elephant in the room. I knew we would have to address it, but I just wanted to enjoy our reunion for a little longer first.
Lily snuggles closer into my side, her fingers drawing aimlessly over my chest. “What was it that finally changed your mind?”
I know she’s referring to me showing up here and wanting her back. “I found a letter.”
“A letter?”
“Yeah, Stella wrote it before she died. I’ll let you read it at some point. Basically, she thanked me for being there for her. She gave me permission to let her go, and she told me that I had better be back with you.”
“She wrote that?” Lily sounds surprised.
“Yes, she knew that I never stopped loving you. She knew that you were always the one for me. She wanted me to tell you that she was sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being with me when she knew that I was meant to be with you.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I know. Reading that letter was pretty intense. It was so surreal because I could hear her saying all of it, but she was gone. You know?”
“I bet. Well, I’m so thankful that she wrote it. Who knows how long it would have taken you to be okay?”
“I know. I’m so sorry, Lil. I wanted to be okay. I wanted to get over it. I loved you, and I knew in my heart that I wanted to be with you. But the overwhelming guilt of moving on wouldn’t let me. I