Page 119 of My Best Years

I instinctively lift my hips when he hooks a finger into my panties and pushes them to the side.

“I just…” he stammers, positioning his tip at my entrance, “need to be as close to you as possible. Make me forget, Birdie. You’re the only one who can take the pain away. You’re my anchor, Birdie Wren. You’ve been my foundation since the day I met you. I don’t know what I would do without–”

His breath hitches as I lower myself down his length until I’m fully seated. My heart rate skyrockets when I feel his girth settle inside me. I’ll never get used to being connected to Callum like this. Every time his body sinks into mine, it feels like a sacred experience.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” I shake my head. “I will never leave you. It’s you and me, Cal. It always has been.”

Our bodies don’t move as Callum stays buried deep inside me.

“I’m scared, Birdie,” he rasps. “I’m fucking scared.”

My chin lip quivers as I nod my head.

“I know you are, Cal.” I brush my thumbs along his stubbled cheeks. “I know. But we’re going to get you the right help. The best treatment we can find.”

His jaw flexes as he shakes his head.

“This isn't fair,” he grits out. “This isn't fucking fair. After everything we’ve been through, I finally got you back. I just got you back, Birdie. I wanted to start a life with you. I wanted to make you my wife and raise babies together and–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I cut him off.

His ocean eyes snap to mine.

“Youaregoing to make me your wife, Callum Pierce,” I deadpan. “Because if you don’t after years of putting me through hell, then I will fucking kill you.”

That causes his lips to turn up in a half-smile. When I smile, too, we both let out a chuckle mixed with tears.

“And I assure you, we’re going to have the cutest damn babies,” I add with a faint grin. “We’re going to live a long, beautiful life together. And one day, when we’re old and gray and arguing about who snores the loudest, I’ll say I told you so.”

A melancholy smile curves Callum’s lips as another tear leaks from the corner of his eye. I cradle his face between my hands as the air between us turns serious. He holds my stare, his eyes darting between mine.

“I’m not going anywhere, Callum,” I repeat. “We’re in this together, okay? There’s nowhere I would rather be than right here with you.”

He nods, swallowing thickly.

“Okay,” he mutters. “I love you, Birdie Wren. I love you so much.”

He slips his hands beneath my cotton dress and softly caresses the bare skin of my hips.

“I love you too, Cal.”

I smile as I think back to when I asked him to be my friend on the bus.

Do you want to be my friend, Callum?

I’ve never forgotten those eight words.

“Birdie and Callum, best friends forever, right?” I ask.

“Right,” he smiles, tears cascading down his face before leaning forward and capturing my lips in a soft kiss.

When he lifts his hips and starts to move inside me, we forget about the storm, his diagnosis, and the outside world.

Time seems to cease to exist as we fall apart in each other's arms.

THIRTY-THREE

Birdie

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