"I'm smitten," I say, using the only word that comes close to describing what I feel.

"You are?" she asks, her blue gaze piercing my soul.

"I don't think you understand the effect you have on me, Sweetheart."

"Show me," she says, the dimple on her cheek appearing as she smiles up at me. "Help me understand what smitten means."

I lean in, brushing my lips against hers, savoring their softness, but before the moment can deepen, the sound of the water turning off and Davey's voice breaks the spell.

"Daddy!"

"Yes, Buddy!" I call back.

"I forgot my towel!"

With a chuckle, I press my forehead to hers and whisper, "Hold that thought, because I fully intend to give you the long, drawn-out definition of the word."

Her laughter spills out, a sweet melody that wraps around my heart, filling the wounded spaces with warmth I never want to let go of.

I grab Davey's clothes and rush into the bathroom. When we step out minutes later, Lily’s eyes light up.

“Oh my goodness, you look so handsome!” she exclaims, her gaze full of warmth.

I flash her a grin. “Are you talking to me?” I tease.

Before Lily can respond, Davey chimes in, his voice confident. “She’s talking to me, Daddy.”

Lily laughs softly, kneeling down to meet Davey’s eyes. “Yes, Buddy, I’m talking to you. Blue is definitely your color.”

I glance between them for a second, a realization hitting me. “Your eyes almost match,” I murmur, the thought catching me off guard. Davey’s eyes, usually a shade lighter, seem darker now—deeper, more like Lily’s—when framed by that perfect shade of blue in his shirt.

***

After Cara and Patrick pick up Davey, Lily heads home to prepare for our date. After I step out of the shower, I glance at the phone to see if I have any messages. I haven’t heard a word from Marian, which leads me to assume she received my message with the car rental confirmation and hotel reservation details. I can only imagine how furious she must be. I know her well, and I understand that my actions have struck a nerve. She’s seething, choosing to give me the silent treatment as she plots her next move.

As I study my reflection in the mirror, doubt gnaws at me. What could a young, beautiful woman like Lily see in someone like me? With my forty-first birthday looming over me, I silently thank God for the dark blond hair I inherited from my mother, which helps mask the encroaching gray. I rake my fingers through the five o’clock shadow that's accumulated over the past few days. They say love is blind, but how long until Lily sees past the fog and realizes she could find someone younger, better?

I hear the back door open and close, the sound signaling Lily’s return. Rushing downstairs, I catch a glimpse of her as she exits the kitchen, and my breath catches. She’s wearing a flowing turquoise top that drapes effortlessly off her shoulders, highlighting her elegant neck. Her olive skin glows as evidence of the whole summer spent outdoors in the garden or by the pool watching my son. Silk shorts accentuate her long, stronglegs, and the matching strappy high-heeled sandals elongate her already slender frame. I’m captivated, wanting to drink in every inch of her beauty, from the curve of her neck to the delicate arch of her heels.

“You’re quiet,” she says as she approaches. Her subtle, enchanting perfume precedes her, and I close my eyes for a moment, savoring her scent, letting it envelop me before we even touch. "Is everything okay?"

“You take my breath away, Sweetheart,” I confess, reaching for her and pulling her close. “What are you doing with me, Lily?”

"What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes, as always, are full of love, their gaze tender and reassuring. From the moment we met, those eyes have told me that she's mine, and it’s that certainty that captivated me from the start, making me want to spend forever with her. This young, beautiful woman loves me deeply, and any doubts about our future seem futile. We are bound by a love that feels destined, lasting until the end of our days.

“Noah?” Her voice, soft and melodic, wraps around my name like a caress. “What do you mean?”

I look into her eyes, searching for the reassurance I need. “I was just wondering what you see in me,” I admit, feeling the familiar pang of doubt. “I’m turning forty-one in two weeks, making our eighteen-year age difference official. Are you sure you want to marry me?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, her gaze falls to the ring on her finger, a tangible symbol of my love and my desire to spend the rest of my life making her happy. She gently twists the ring, her fingers caressing the precious stone, before meeting my eyes with a soft smile.

“I’m smitten, too,” she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. “I know what the word means, Noah, but I want you to give me the full, drawn-out definition you promised. Show me. Teach me what it truly means to be smitten.”

She closes her eyes, inviting me to demonstrate just how smitten I truly am.

***

Moonlight streams through the window when I wake, casting a soft glow over us. Lily lies beside me, her face serene and impossibly beautiful in sleep. I lean in and place a soft kiss on her lips, then another, gently rousing her. Her eyes flutter open, and a tender smile spreads across her face as she shifts her soft body closer to me.