Page 77 of Say You're Mine

For a long moment, we just cling to each other, panting harshly in the aftermath. June's weight is a comforting anchor, his skin slick with sweat where it presses against mine. I feel drunk on him, on us, on the overwhelming relief of being together again.

Slowly, reluctantly, he rolls off of me, gathering me into the cradle of his arms. I tuck my head under his chin, listening to the gradually slowing thunder of his heart. His hand traces idle patterns on my back, each brush of skin on skin a silent affirmation.

"I love you," he says into the quiet, the words rough and soft at the same time. "I love you so fucking much, Cara."

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips over the stubbled line of his jaw. "I love you too, June. More than anything. More than I ever thought possible."

He pulls me tighter against him, as if he could merge us into a single being through sheer force of will. "We're going to make it, baby," he says, conviction ringing in every word. "You, me, our little sprout... we're going to have the life we always dreamed of."

I hum in agreement, letting my eyes drift shut as he paints a picture of our future with his words. Lazy mornings in bed, little feet pattering down hallways. Art on the fridge and laughter echoing off the walls. Love, so much love, warming every corner of the home we'll build together.

It feels so close, so real, that I can almost reach out and touch it. A beautiful tapestry woven from all the threads of our hopes and dreams and hard-fought happiness.

But even in the soft cocoon of June's embrace, even in the hazy afterglow of our lovemaking, I can't quite shake the chill of foreboding that whispers at the edges of my consciousness.

The knowledge that Elaine is still out there somewhere, biding her time, plotting her revenge. That the danger is far from over, no matter how much we might wish otherwise.

I burrow closer to June, breathing in the scent of him, letting it ground me in the here and now. He's warm and solid and real, the beat of his heart a metronome by which I set my own.

We're together. We're alive. And for this moment, suspended in the soft hush of the early morning hours, that's enough.

It has to be.

Because the alternative - the thought of losing him again, of our child growing up without their father - is too terrible to contemplate.

So, I let everything else falls away - the fear, the pain, the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring; because in this moment, this slice of eternity carved out amid the wreckage, there is only us.

Only June, my heart, my haven, moving inside me like he was made for me. Only my body, singing its surrender, welcoming him home again and again.

"I can't believe I almost lost this," he says softly, wonder and disbelief warring in his voice. "Lost you both."

Tears prick my eyes, my throat tightening. "But you didn't," I remind him, covering his hand with my own. "We're here. We're safe. Thanks to you."

He shakes his head, his smile a bit rueful. "Thanks to us. You're the one who stayed strong, Cara. You're the one who never gave up. Even when I... when I wasn't myself."

I hear the hitch in his voice, see the flicker of pain in his eyes. My heart clenches, aching for all he's endured. All he's still enduring. "I don't deserve you," he says roughly. "I don't deserve this second chance."

"Yes, you do," I counter fiercely. "You deserve happiness, June. You deserve peace. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you have it."

A slow, wondering smile spreads across his face, chasing away the shadows. "Yeah? You got big plans for us, then?"

"The biggest," I affirm, my own smile stretching wide. "I'm talking white picket fence, two-point-five kids, the whole nine yards."

He laughs, a rusty, disused sound that warms me from the inside out. "Two-point-five, huh? Guess we better get started on that half-kid."

I swat at him playfully, reveling in the easy banter, the lightness between us. It's a glimpse of our future, of the joy and laughter and love we've fought so hard for.

"I want it all with you, June," I tell him, my voice softening with sincerity. "The crazy carpool mornings and the science fair projects and the family vacations. I want to argue over whose turn it is to do dishes and fall asleep on the couch watching bad reality TV."

"Barefoot and pregnant, huh?" he teases, but there's a glimmer of longing in his eyes. "You trying to make an honest man out of me, Cara Briers?"

"In every sense of the word," I affirm, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I want forever with you, June Deveaux. The good, the bad, and everything in between."

He captures my mouth in a searing kiss, one that leaves me breathless and aching. "Forever," he echoes as he pulls back, a vow and a covenant. "I like the sound of that."

We talk long into the night, spinning dreams and plans and promises. June's eyes light up as he speaks of raising our child in the Caribbean, of mornings spent surfing and nights spent making love under the stars.

He talks of building a life centered around art and passion, of supporting my animation work and sharing the beauty I create with the world. He dreams aloud of filling our home with laughter and love, of having a whole basketball team's worth of little ones underfoot.

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