Page 219 of Only With You

“I speak five actually.”

I gape at him. “That’s it. I’m really changing your name to Princess.”

He laughs, his dimples indenting on his cheeks. “I wrote something for you.”

I get giddy again, unable to stay still. I’m practically bouncing on my spot.

Oh my God, chill out. Play it cool.

“For me?” I squeak and clear my throat. “You wrotemesomething?” My body vibrates with excitement.

“Yeah, and if you go to the Procreate app, you’ll find a folder with all the songs I’ve composed and the colours I see when I hear them. Just don’t tell Lola, because she helped me make it since I didn’t know how.”

I quickly log into the app and click on the folder. The first song is titled “Clarity” followed by others.

“Landon,” I say breathlessly. When I tap on the title, an aurora of blue and white slowly moves. They swirl, mix, and sometimes separate but eventually come back together. “Whoa. This is what you see? It’s mesmerizing.”

“Every time you speak, it’s what I see,” he speaks gently.

My head snaps up, and I stare at him in awe. My eyes prick with tears and my nose stings. “Are you saying my voice inspired this song?”

“A little, yeah, but it’s really about theclarityyou brought to my life.” He takes me in his arms, his eyes the lightest shade of gray I’ve ever seen, and the sweetest smile dances on his face. “Thank you for helping me see the light again.”

I bite my wobbly lip, but he uses his thumb and tugs on my chin to release it. He leans down and brushes his lips to mine.

Fireworks set off all over my body, every inch of me feeling warm and fuzzy. “Thank you for making me feel safe in the darkness. I’m so happy to call you my home.”

EPILOGUE

LANDON

Six YearsLater

“We have to be really quiet, okay?” I whisper, raising my pointer finger to my lips.

My four-year-old, Genevieve, raises her hand to her mouth, attempting to stifle her giggle. It still sneaks past her parted fingers and echoes throughout the quiet kitchen.

“Sorry, Daddy, it’s so hard.” Vi giggles again, dimples on either side of her cheeks deeply indenting them, her small shoulders shaking as she tries again to contain it.

Rays of golden yellow dance in my mind’s eye, radiantly shining as they flicker and swirl at the sound of her voice.

“Come here.” I smile, smothering my laugh as I lift her up and sit her on the counter. “We’ll just do our best, okay? Mummy needs to get all the sleep she can get.”

“Is Santa going to bring him today?” She attempts to say in a hushed voice, but it gets louder with each word, and the twinkle in her radiant blue eyes brightens. “I put him on my list.”

Julianna’s pregnant with our second baby, and last month, we found out the gender. Ever since we told Vi, she’s beenexcitedly and impatiently waiting for him to come home. She even told Julianna to add her baby brother to her Christmas list, because she knowsSantacan work miracles.

She’s so precious, I can’t help but kiss her forehead. I’d shower her with kisses, but she’s not a fan of my beard.

I hate lying to her, but I also can’t tell her Santa isn’t real. It doesn’t make sense to lie when she’ll grow up and find out he’s not real. I can’t rationalise or justify it despite what Julianna and everyone says about themagic of imaginationand whatnot.

I’ve been told I’m putting too much thought into it. Excuse me for not wanting to disappoint our daughter. Much to my chagrin, Julianna says we’ll cross that bridge when the time comes, but for now, we have to let her believe it.

“I’m sorry, angel, but it’s still too early for Santa to bring him.” I brush a wisp of her black hair away from her face.

Her bottom lip juts out, eyes glazing with sadness. “But, Daddy, I put him on my list.”

“I know, but he’ll be here in four months.” I grab her hair, tickling her nose with the ends.

---