Where the Stars Fall

32 | Every piece of myself

I REACH ACROSS THE TABLE for her hand and look into Olivia's eyes. A gentle smile plays across her lips.

Knowing I'm the reason behind that smile is one of the best feelings and I'm not afraid anymore to tell her that. That I need her. That I need her to be part of my life, that I want to give every piece of myself to her.

Caught up in the moment, I get up from the counter stool and leave a long kiss on her forehead.

Olivia leans into me to nuzzle her face against my chest. Her smiling eyes seek mine, to soothe me the way only she can, to tell me without words that sure, life sucks sometimes, but she's here, with me, to be my anchor, to reassure me everything will be all right. And it fills me in the most profound way, this feeling, the feeling that I love her, that I love her with all that I am.

Before I start collecting our plates, I throw a quick glance at my mobile to check the time.

It's late. Almost eleven.

We've finished dinner a little while ago, but we lost track of time while catching up, cosy and relaxed, chatting away about life, these past weeks, about our future.

"...I was betting he'd run screaming out of the door, but no, the poor guy just fainted in the middle of the room, imagine that! His wife was so angry she could have jumped off the delivery table and strangled him right there!" Olivia tells me about the highlight of her day and lets out a loud laugh. "I'm fully convinced if men had to give birth themselves, civilisation would have already been extinguished. You can be such wusses!"

I shake my head, amused, but keep my thoughts to myself.

The idea of seeing your child getting out through a spot where you have already had so much fun – basically through the main attraction of the whole playground – is a bit disturbing. And when one day I'm in that position, I do plan to hold Olivia's hand, talk gently to her, take all those slow, deep breaths – but, for the sake of my own mental health, I'll be watching it from the headboard side.

From the other angle, with a full view of the event? No, thank you.

"Dessert?"

She crinkles her nose.

"You sure?"

Nodding, she smiles, loose and entertained, one finger absently circling the rim of her glass, one leg stretched over another stool, her body swaying to the music floating from the sound system. "Thank you for the late dinner, it was great."

Everything is quiet and perfect, just perfect.

She glances at me, with bright eyes, her lips slightly curled to a naughty smile. "Hey, you know what? You're a pretty damn good cook with a dangerously charming smile... That will get you a lot of extra cookies."

The sly, playful innuendo almost stops me in my tracks. I'm taking a little surprise I prepared for her out of the freezer.

"Hey, sexy. What do you think of this?" A bowl with two scoops of vanilla ice-cream with cherries and walnuts. Her favourite.

Her eyes light up. "Where's the spoon?"

Waggling one, I lean over to tease her a little by just barely touching my lips against hers. "So you do want dessert after all?" I watch the mischief flicker in her eyes, which are fixed on mine.

I scoop up a spoonful of ice-cream and hold it to her mouth. She tastes it slowly, rolling the cream on her tongue, and I kiss her lips, which feel cold and taste sweet.

I'm almost sure I've just heard a tiny, little moan.

The fire that's been brewing inside of me since this afternoon flares to life. I want her so badly that if she kisses me back, I'll be damned if I don't take that as an invitation and in less than one minute, I won't just be kissing her lips, I'll be kissing every inch of her body. On this very counter.