Page 61 of So Wrong It's Right

I pull back. “Our house.”

She smiles. “What if I paint stars on the wall and buy a hundred throw pillows?”

“You can do whatever you want. Whatever makes it comfortable for you. If you’re happy, then it’s home.”

Her hand comes to her heart. “Wow. You been watching Hallmark movies? That was beautiful.”

I grin. “Except the bed. You can’t pick out the bed because I already did.” I point to the ceiling. “It’s upstairs. Ready for us.”

“You have a bed.”

“Wehave a bed. Want to go see if we can break it?”

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Stella

ALL THE PLACES THATwere hollow inside of me are full. Full of Christopher. Full of love. He’s looking at me, and I know he sees me. And he likes me. Everything about my life is different than it was an hour ago.

I take his hand and lead him up the stairs of our house. The walls seem to welcome us. I can practically hear the laughter of children and see the dog hair collecting in the corners of the stairs.

I’m Christopher’s home. Me. We’re going to take care of each other. He wants to live in my town and help me take care of animals and the people who love them.

I’m fighting the urge to believe I don’t deserve this. Because I do. The Year of Stella has been all about me learning that.

He directs me to the master bedroom. I want to see the rest of the rooms, explore every nook and cranny of this house. Our very, very fine house. But right now, I think we both need something else.

The only thing in the room is a massive bed. It’s big like a playground. It looks so masculine and imposing in a room with delicate lace curtains and matching bed linens.

Christopher has his hands on my shoulders, and I feel the heat of him behind me. “I wanted to make it big enough that someday the kids could come in on Sunday morning, and we could read stories or watch movies together.”

“Oh, my Goddess, Christopher. You don’t mess around, do you? When you go, you go all in. How many kids are you planning on us having?”

“Too many. I like watching you with kids. I like the way they take one look at you and know you’re safe. That you’ll take care of them. You know what they need. I like the way you get down on their level. The thought of you holding our children, reading them books and tying their shoes and teaching me how to play with them so they don’t hate me—it’s gotten me through a lot of lonely hours since I went back to my apartment.”

I turn in his arms. “They won’t hate you. I promise. You’re going to be an awesome dad.”

I can see it. Lazy Sundays eating French toast and reading the paper until kids come along. Then Dr. Seuss and teddy bears. Sticky fingers and puppy kisses.

I grab the lapels of his suit jacket. “I’d like to have a little bit of time that’s just for us, though. Maybe take a trip or two.”

“I want it all with you, Stella.”

“And a dog?”

“Especially a dog. We can get one tomorrow.”

I smile, from the inside. The Year of Stella has changed course and is better than ever. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.” I eye the giant bed. “You’re going to have to distract me somehow.”

“I have a few ideas.”

He’s starting to look a little dangerous. Just the way I like him. “Maybe we should go grab some food. For later.”

“I stocked the fridge and stole one of your casseroles out of the freezer at work.”

I slide the zipper of my dress down. “You’re so prepared.”

“I’ve missed you so much there’s no way I wanted you to have any reason to leave this house once I got you in it.”

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