I'll Be Seeing You

Sixteen.

I never realized how much stuff I had until it was time to move it.

When I first moved in with Mark, I only brought what I could fit in my car, so it wasn't much. But somewhere along the way, I'd managed to accumulate a mountain of things. Thankfully, Mark had already made room in the closet for my clothes, so I didn't have to worry about any of the furniture. I left behind my winter clothes, coats, and shoes I never wore, and Mark moved some of his less-used things in there too, so we'd have more space.

I had a lot of items with sentimental value—things I couldn't let go of, but didn't need cluttering up the room. I packed them into totes and stacked them neatly in the back of the closet. Mark cleared off the top of his dresser so I could display my perfumes, jewelry, and the random little knickknacks I couldn't leave behind.

"We'll go out this week and get you a vanity and a desk," he said as we grabbed the last of my things. "That way you'll have a space to do your makeup and a quiet spot for schoolwork."

"I'd love that," I smiled. "I think that's everything. I'll wash the bedding and curtains tonight, and I'll dust and vacuum sometime this week."

"That didn't take as long as I thought it would. And I'll admit... I kind of like the girly touches. My bachelor pad's starting to look like a honeymoon suite." He smirked.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted me to move in."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. It's your room too now. Seeing your stuff in here makes me happy."

"You sure you're not going to get tired of all this?" I asked, arching a brow.

"Never." He pulled me into a hug. "This is what I want."

"No take-backs."

"Never, baby girl."

"Well," I said, brushing my hands together, "mission accomplished. What do you want to do for the rest of the day?"

"I'd like to take you to dinner—somewhere nice—then maybe bowling?"

"Yes and yes, please. I'm starving, and you know I love bowling."

"Perfect. Go ahead and get ready. I'll call and make reservations."

"Reservations?" I grinned. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Somewhere nice," he said, flashing that charming, secretive smile.

This man. He could've taken me to McDonald's and handed me a Happy Meal, and I'd have been perfectly content. But that was never enough for him. Mark always went above and beyond—not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He knew I was simple. That being with him, no matter what we were doing, made me happy. Still, I knew it made him feel good to do nice things for me. So, I never argued.

I curled my hair and pulled it into a half-ponytail. Just a touch of foundation to even out my skin tone, a swipe of mascara, and a nude lipstick—I went with a "no makeup" makeup look. Natural, fresh. Me. As I finished, I paused and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

There was a sparkle in my eyes again. A softness in my smile that hadn't been there for a long time. I didn't feel sick to my stomach when I looked at the woman staring back at me. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to look away.

This... this was what happiness looked like. Not the kind you forced to keep others comfortable. But real happiness. The kind that made you sit up in the middle of the night, overwhelmed with gratitude and wondering what you ever did to deserve something so good. The kind that other people noticed—and envied—because they could only dream of knowing it for themselves.