Together we fall

12 | Sophie

Despite the warm fire crackling in the fireplace, Sophie shivered uncontrollably. Goosebumps spread up and down her arms as her thoughts raced into dark places she wished they wouldn't go.

She felt like she'd been shaking for hours, but she was aware that Mr. Forkle had left barely five minutes ago.

"It's not that bad," Keefe assured her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Councilor Grumpy Pants is nice now, right?"

Sophie's face scrunched. "Yeah. But his inflicting lessons . . ." She shuddered.

"Ember can handle it," Keefe promised.

"I don't want her to have to handle it," Sophie muttered, staring at her boots, which were grass stained from helping at Havenfield the week before.

"I know, Foster," he murmured. "I don't either."

Sophie reached up to tug out an eyelash, but restrained herself. Instead she busied her fingers with taking out her braid, which was already starting to fall out.

"Hey." Keefe grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?"

"Just taking the braid out," she said simply, removing the tight elastic from the ends of her hair.

"You should leave it in," her husband said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

Sophie laughed, forgetting her worries momentarily. "Why? It's already falling out."

He took her hands before she could reach up and undo the plait. "Leave it—really. You're breathtaking."

Sophie blushed.

She let Keefe retie the elastic in her hair and sweep the woven braid over her shoulder. "There," he breathed. "You look perfect."

Sophie smiled, her face reddening still. "I'm anything but perfect, Keefe."

He intertwined their fingers. "You're perfect to me."

Sophie stared at him. She gazed at his ice blue eyes, his golden locks, his handsome features she'd grown to love so dearly. His face was chiseled faultlessly, symmetrical and exquisite and stunning. The curves of his face were sharp and keen, but charmingly soft and gentle simultaneously. Everything about him was enchanting, from his handsome face to his dreamy personality.

If one of them was perfect, it was most definitely him.

She fingered the ring on her right hand, a light blue diamond that she hadn't taken off in seventeen years. It was beautiful and pristine, yet simple, just how she liked it.

She wondered where she would be if she hadn't said yes all those years ago.

Nowhere good.

An identical ring rested on Keefe's hand, glinting in the sunlight and refracting back the light.

Sophie looked back up at Keefe, who was now staring at her with an amused expression. "Earth to Foster," He said, nudging her gently.

"You're a masterpiece," Sophie blurted suddenly.

Keefe smiled, bewildered. "A what?" He said with a confused laugh.

"A masterpiece."

Keefe smirked. "You're adorable," he sighed contentedly. "And . . . Crazy."

"Probably," Sophie agreed.

"But that," Keefe murmured, "is why I love you."

"Then you're crazy," Sophie said with a wicked grin.

Keefe smiled before tipping her head up. "It's a good kind of crazy," he whispered before pulling her into a kiss.