The Fall - Book 2

243. I'm scared, too.

OCTOBER 23, 2020 — THE BARNES HOUSE — BUCKY

I'm not surprised when Réa dozes off; her growing our child—which I know is a tiring feat in the best of circumstances—combined with the fact that she hasn't been sleeping very well the past several weeks means that she's almost always exhausted. Not wanting to disturb her, I wait until she's fully asleep, then I turn off the TV and carefully stand, carrying her to our room and laying her on the bed. I head into our closet, changing into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before grabbing a throw blanket and making my way back to the bed. I drape the blanket over my wife then settle beside her, holding her as close to me as I can given her bump.

As I always do when the opportunity presents itself, I watch her sleep, my eyes occasionally roving over her, but mostly remaining fixed on her face.

'She's so beautiful,' I think the thought I've had dozens—hundreds, thousands—of times, and that I know I'll have thousands more.

And yes, while she's physically stunning, the fact is that she's beautiful for so many other reasons: her loyalty; her honesty, her integrity, and her desire to always do the right thing; her kindness, her empathy, and her compassion; her intelligence and her sense of humor; her ability to find joy in moments that most others would consider mundane; and, perhaps most of all, her capacity for love.

Warmth fills my chest as everything I feel for my amazing, incredible wife crescendoes within me and, unable to contain myself, I let words spill from me.

"You often tell me that my soul is beautiful," I whisper; even though my tone is so soft that the words barely break the quiet peacefulness surrounding us, my voice is thick with emotion. "I just hope you know that yours is, too. I hope you know how much light you bring to the world...not just mine—though you completely illuminate it—but to the whole world, the whole Universe...just by being you...just by being Réa."

I pause. "And I know that our son—that all of the children we have—will do the same, because not only will every single one of them be a part of you, they will grow up experiencing all of the love, and kindness, and goodness—all of the light—that you have within you. And, as I've had the incredible privilege of learning, that kind of light can't be extinguished, no matter how hard or how much anyone tries."

I touch her face, my vibranium fingertips just barely brushing over her skin before my hand gently cups her cheek, and though she remains asleep, I watch a soft, beatific smile curve her lips.

"I love you, Réa. I love you so, so much. And even though I know you've felt my feelings and emotions—can feel them—through our link, I sometimes still wonder if you know just how much I love you. I wonder if you know how special you are to me...if you know how in awe I am of you; how vastly thankful I am for every single moment I've ever had and will ever have with you...if you know how astoundingly grateful I am that you're my wife, my partner, my best friend, and my soulmate."

Tears of utter joy and happiness fill my eyes, and before I can blink them back, one slips down my cheek.

"Nu știu ce am făcut pentru a merita această viață cu tine—pentru a fi demn de tine—dar aș
  face-o din nou, și din nou, și din nou."     (I don't know what I did to deserve this life with you—to be worthy of you—but I would do it again, and again, and again.)

I press a soft, gentle kiss to Réa's forehead, then rest mine against hers. I drape my vibranium arm over her hip, and rest my right hand on her belly, wanting to hold both her and our son close.

I stay like this the entire rest of the time she sleeps, breathing in her sweet, comforting fragrance of vanilla-, ginger-, and citrus-tinged spun sugar and raspberries as I hold her in my arms. When she eventually stirs, her crystal blue eyes immediately fix on mine, and I watch her cheeks pink as she blushes.