Burning Desire

Epilogue

Sky

The smell of burnt bacon wafted through the house and I couldn't help but smile as I folded my tie in the mirror. "Shit!" I heard through the open beadroom door. A laugh escaped me before I could stop myself. "I know you're laughing. Stop." I laughed even harder and followed the smell of breakfast down the stairs to the kitchen. I leaned against the doorframe and folded my arms as I watched the love of my life desperately try not to burn the rest of our food.

"I just don't get it. Why does is always look so easy when you do it," Hale grumbled as he shot me an accusatory look through lowered lids.

"Maybe I'm just awesome like that," I said, moving forward to pull him into my arms.

He pretended to think about it for a second. I tightened my arms around his waist as his own instinctively wrapped around my neck. His amazing scent filled my nose. His citrus shampoo. His sandalwood aftershave. Him. It drove me wild and made me feel at home all at the same time. I was once again flooded with my love for him.

"Maybe you're cheating somehow." It took me a second to remember what we had been talking about and once I did, I just chuckled, shook my head and moved to set the table.

Everything was so damn domestic. I loved it. I'd bought the house for us while Hale was still in the hospital. I couldn't stand to be apart from him for even a second. It was hard enough leaving him in those first few weeks after his release to go to work. I hated every second of it and called home every half hour.

Home. I liked the sound of that. Anywhere Hale was, was my home now.

Our little two story house stood in a ritzy neighborhood. Kids rode their bikes down the streets and couples walked their dogs. Our lawn was a bright green all through the year and we had the white picket fence to match. Hale had teased me terribly in the beginning. I knew he'd had some trouble adjusting to my lifestyle, but I had stood firm. The neighborhood wasn't just expensive, it was safe. Since he couldn't argue with that, he stopped complaining after a few weeks and accepted it for what it was.

"Are you heading down to the shelter today?" I asked Hale, taking a bite of the burnt bacon and fighting the grimace that wanted to take over my face.

Hale sighed. "You don't have to eat it. I know it sucks." I gave him an apologetic look as I placed the rest of the strip back on my plate. He'd been trying so hard to pick up some of the chores around the house. In the beginning, I had done all the cooking, but after a talk that Hale had insisted upon about 'equal responsibility', Hale had decided that he wanted to give it a go. I would never tell him, but I wished he'd just go back to doing all the laundry. "Yeah, I'm heading to the shelter right after we're done." Hale's smile was bright and lit a fire in my heart.

I smiled at his enthusiasm. I'd run the idea of a charity by him while he was still in the hospital. He was more interested than I'd ever thought he'd be and he spent his weeks of bedrest doing research on how to establish his own charity to help people in need. His brainchild had been the Hands of Salvation, something that originally started out as a fundraiser but took a whole different turn when I suggested the shelter idea. Now, families from all over came to us when they worked up the courage to escape their various domestic violence situations. Hale had hired everyone needed to offer counseling and support, and he could just run the place and know that he was making a difference in the lives of those people.

My good mood always faltered whenever I thought of the hospital. I'd come so close to losing Hale. The bullet had missed his heart by a mere centimeter. He had been in surgery so long that we'd lost all hope. His heart had stopped twice and he'd been losing blood faster than they could pump it back in. The days that followed were spent worrying every time that a monitor beeped and nearly dying whenever doctors started running around. But he'd made it. Weeks in physical therapy and a lot of help and love later, and here we were.