Fallen For Him (Editing)

~ Prologue ~

A little girl only three years old, with olive skin and wavy, chocolate-brown hair squats next to a withered garden. She wiggles her tiny toes into the soft soil and watches a hummingbird buzz around the top of a broken branch. The temptation of a single rose remains perfectly tucked beneath the overgrown weeds. The average eye would not have seen the delicate rose, but she knows it's there.

"Should we stop her?" I whispered beneath my breath.

"No, let her be," he reassures.

The little girl glances over each side of her shoulder. Once to the left and swiftly back to the right. She sighs in relief when she thinks the coast is clear.  Guilt spreads across her face as she bites her lip. I know that look anywhere. She is wondering to herself, "Is it worth it?"

A mischievous smile spreads across her tiny rosy lips. I shake my head when I see her. Ever so cautiously; she reaches forward and whispers, "Yes. Yes, it is."

 I back away from the window, while still watching her. "She could get hurt. We should stop her." 

"It will be okay," he says and walks behind me. " I promise. Just watch and see."

The little girl takes her tiny fingers and pushes a few twigs aside until she sees the single velvet-red rose.  Ever so gently, she plucks it from beneath the soil. The little girl tries her best to stay away from the jagged stem, but just as she fears, she falls forward, entangling herself into the weeds. She whimpers, but remains strong and not let her pain show.

After pulling herself up, the little girl stares towards her red palms. A single tear escapes her glassy eyes from a thorn that pricked her delicate skin.

Suckling the pain away, the little girl twirls the velvet-red rose back and forth with her opposite hand, trying to decide once more if it was worth the pain to have something she had worked so hard for.

She glances up towards the stained-glass window where we are standing, I with my arms folded and he with his arms embraced around my body. Somehow, she knew I had been watching the entire time. The little girl looks towards her stained soil feet. The look of guilt returns.

"She is okay." I sigh in relief.

"Told ya. She is strong just like her mother." He says and leaves a trail of kisses down the nape of my neck.

"You're right." 

Although he says that I am right, this perfect little girl never seems to amaze me. She is strong. She is angelic. She is mine.

"Was it worth what I did for them?"

"Yes. Yes, it was."