The sparrow tattoo on my wrist peeks out as I extend my arm to point out a baby elephant that has just appeared from the brush. I grin, knowing how proud Sparrow is of me for letting love in and (for once in my life) using my spitfire spirit for something worthwhile and not internally destructive.

“C’mon, honey,” Graham says, affection dripping off his words. He places his hand on top of mine—the one gripping one of the bars of the open-sided vehicle so we don’t fly off—and rubs small circles with his thumb over my knuckles. The shiver it gives me has nothing to do with the adventure we’re on and everything to do with the person I’m with.

Far in the distance, at the top of a hill, the silhouettes of trees blend with the silhouettes of giraffes. The pattern is almost one I could weave on a design, and I want to try to figure out how to make what I’m seeing into latte art one day. We’ve seen rhinos and a cheetah too.

Just yesterday, we went on a Nile River cruise, with crocodiles lurking just under the surface and larger-than-life hippos growling and breaking through the water with their giant mouths and teeth open to the sky. They’re honestly terrifying animals, and I was incredibly grateful to be in the middle of a large boat. The truth is, I still held my breath anytime we drifted past one and plastered myself to Graham’s side (not that he minded).

We decided late last night, while we were tucked away in our room at the lodge after eating our fill of delicious food and wine, that we’d go on at least one adventure each year for the rest of our lives. Let’s face it. Our whole life will be an adventure, given the chemistry between us, which is always waiting to explode. But while I used to fear it, I now crave it because I know that spark creates something magical when each of our elements comes together. Much like the recipes and experiments I make with chocolate and baked goods, being with Graham is like inventing something new with the same elements every time. How could one possibly grow bored of that?

Deep in my soul, I know, while I still ache for the time we missed, there’s an appreciation for him that I’m not sure I would’ve had if we didn’t go through heartache with each other and come out on the other side. There’s a certain strength in our relationship that I know is immovable because we wounded each other and then found the courage to heal together.

We know how much it hurts to fight with each other, so we fight for each other. And that has made all the difference.

It’s not perfect. There are days I still want to throw things because I get caught up in my own head, wanting my own way. Yet, Graham is ever-present—steady, sure, and willing to investigate everything possible to bring a smile to my face. Since we’ve been married, I’ve found several ways to bring a smile to his face that are just too much fun.

On some days, I still feel the weight of my actions, including how I rejected him and the day he found me again. I almost can’t believe that we ended up in the life we get to live together now. How kind is God to have given me someone who will (literally) go to the end of the world with me? Someone who will let me be free while keeping me safe?

Graham treasures me. He loves me. And as I take in the gold wedding band around his finger—classy and timeless, just like him—I’m in awe that I get to love him back for the rest of my life.

∞∞∞

Graham

If you ever meet someone named Lily, hold onto them with everything you have. This is what I’ve learned in the course of my life. We all have thorns, and sometimes the ones you love need help removing them before they’re able to be held. But it’s worth the wrestle.

Lily is sitting on the balcony, overlooking the animal reserve below. In the week we’ve been in Africa, we’ve occasionally woken up to giraffes looking in through the windows on the third floor or the sound of hyenas whooping in the distance. It’s been an adventure that I know we’ll never forget.

I stir in our bed and sit up, watching as Lily fidgets with the lens of the camera, working to bring something she sees into focus. Her glowing blonde hair is in a long braid down her back, legs curled up beneath her. A once-steaming mug of coffee is abandoned beside her, along with a half-eaten pastry. As I lean forward a little more, I catch the shiny wrapper of what used to be a chocolate bar lightly fluttering in the wind. I chuckle to myself and rise.

She senses I’m awake and turns to face me, her eyes lighting up as a smile breaks over her face. I hope she always looks at me like this. Gently removing the strap from around her neck and setting it on the chair, she rushes to the sliding glass door.

I’m already waiting on the other side when it cracks open, the sound of bird calls in the nearby trees breaking through the air that crackles with energy between us. Moving toward me slowly, as if she’s trying to find someone in their natural habitat, she gives me a grin that weakens my knees.

“Hi.” She smiles as my eyes rove over her face. I’m exploring every detail I can, always trying to track the ways she looks different to me in each segment of the day.

“Hi, little wildflower,” I respond, chronicling the new details I’m finding today. The sunlight makes the edges of her lavender-grey eyes a little darker, freckles are starting to appear on her cheeks and the tip of her nose because of the sunlight we’ve been enjoying this past week, and a speck of melted chocolate lingers near her top lip.

“What?” she asks.

My breath hitches when her eyes snag on my mouth. My insides are on fire, and it’s all I can do not to take her in my arms and show her all the ways I will treasure her for the rest of my life. Then I realize I actually can do just that. After years of holding back and trying to rid myself of my love for her, I’m free to pour out my affection on her and feel her heart opening more to me each day. It’s a miracle I didn’t dare to hope for.

I bend down to pick her up and hold her in my arms. The surprise of it all sends a squeal from her mouth and a laugh into the morning mood. She’s still sassy, she still holds her own, and she still yells her opinions into the world. But she has also softened with me in such a way that my Lily, the one who fought with me every step of the way before now, is now battling for me too. She’s positively radiant.

Her arms tighten around my neck, and her fingers gently brush through the back of my hair. I’m practically purring like the wild cats that I’m sure we’ll see later today when I feel the air charge to another level.

“Graham.”

My eyes meet hers, the love she has for me as clear as the cloudless blue sky. I furrow my brow, waiting for her to ask or tell me what’s on her mind.

“I need to tell you something,” she whispers, her eyes scanning my features. I’m still holding her close, unwilling to put her down yet unless she asks me to.

“What do you want to tell me?”

I walk us over to the bed and gently place her on the edge. I kneel in front of her to stay at eye level. Her gaze flares with heat, and my heartbeat quickens as she begins to run her hands over my face, slowly and carefully, like she’s tempering chocolate and wants to know how my features are designed.

This is love, the ability to let myself be open before her, nothing hidden, and allow her to be the same with me. It’s the ability to forget the wrongs between us and still choose each other, still protect each other. And to do it all with joy because it’s my joy to love her. Love permits me to be the one she holds onto despite her independence, knowing that, while she doesn’t need me to be able to do all the incredible things that have yet to unfold in her life, she wants me beside her with her whole heart.

“Are you trying to figure out how to replicate my face, or what’s going on here?” I tease, delighting in the smile forming on her face.