Page 109 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

I did, trying to remain as far from him as possible as I did.

That proved to be impossible when Anleigh held out her tiny little hand for me to hold hers.

I had to scooch closer to do that, which put my thigh pressing against his.

“Mama,” she whispered.

I leaned closer, putting me very close to both Anleigh and Jeremiah.

Anleigh’s head was resting on Jeremiah’s opposite shoulder, but she was looking at me across the wide expanse of his chest from underneath his chin.

I could practically feel the warm air leaving his body.

“Love you.”

I smiled, my heart melting like it always did. “I love you, too, my baby.”

She closed her eyes again, and I saw the contentment there.

I’d probably be just as content on his chest as well.

“Y’all look like you were made for each other,” Neesha said quietly.

I looked back to find her smiling softly.

“Funny, but if I didn’t know any better on the timeline in which you met, I’d say that y’all have been together forever,” Chris offered.

I smiled, but something inside of me agreed.

It felt like I’d known him forever.

I agreed with Jeremiah’s earlier thoughts.

Something inside of me told me to come here today. Something inside of me had rejoiced at meeting him at the hockey arena. While eating wings with him, I felt like a piece of my soul had finally slipped into place. Something I hadn’t been aware I’d been missing until I’d gotten to talk to him.

Everything about Jeremiah just felt right.

And it shouldn’t.

It didn’t make sense that we’d known each other for such a short amount of time, yet it felt like forever.

I also had this weird sense of déjà vu over the next hour as we talked with his brother and sister-in-law.

Almost like I could guess the direction of his thoughts, or what he was going to say next.

I instinctively knew his likes and dislikes, too.

“Ginger made a new recipe this year,” Neesha said, getting an inside joke about their family that went over my head.

“Oh, boy,” Chris said as he glanced down at his phone, reading the same text message that they’d all gotten.

I smiled as Jeremiah sighed and said, “Sweet potato casserole.”

“You don’t like sweet potatoes,” I said before I had time to think.

Jeremiah nodded. “They’re the worst.”

“How’d you know he didn’t like them?” Neesha frowned.

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