Hunter's Moon 2

Hey guys! Because of portfolio difficulties, namely my inability to purchase one, I'm having to post this in parts... so this is the second part... as the 2 would show... pretty clever how that worked, huh? :) So please, if you're starting this, go back and read the first part... it'll make a lot more sense. Love, Ray

* * * * *

We didn't get to see much of each other until midway through January. Mike had to go to Victoria for a job, and school was eating me alive. We talked on the phone every few days, mostly me blabbering about how tired I was and him listening patiently and laughing at my bad jokes. I usually was the one hogging the conversation. I don't think he minded, though.

Then one day, two days before he got back, he confessed something that made me incredibly happy, and incredibly horny. "I can't stop thinking of you, baby," he said.

"I know. I think about you all the time, too."

"I can't shut my eyes without seeing you in my head."

"You're so cheesy," I said, laughing.

"You wouldn't think it was cheesy if you saw what we were doing," he said, his voice throaty. "Are you alone?"

"Yes," I said, a little nervous.

"Good, 'cause I've been dying to tell you about this dream I had..."

By the end of his story I was stroking and panting. I knew he knew what I was doing. "Come for me, baby," he whispered over the phone.

I let my head fall back and said his name over and over. I had to set the phone down next to me on the pillow. I stroked harder, faster, thinking about what he told me, thinking of having my legs hooked over his shoulders and him over me, fucking me, harder and harder... I felt myself build, too fast, and came, moaning his name.

I wiped my hands on the towel I had thrown beside my bed that morning after my shower, and picked up the phone again.

"Get your ass home, Michael."

He laughed. "Good night, baby, I love you."

"I love you too... You're making me crazy here."

"I know. I only wish I could have seen it."

* * * * *

When he finally got back home, I was so eager to see him that I sat outside his apartment building on the steps, waiting for him. When I saw him, I had to restrain myself from running to him. Instead I calmly stood and walked to where he was, pulling a duffel bag out of his truck.

"Hey," I said, standing behind him.

He jumped a little, turned, and dropped the bag when he saw me. He picked me up off the ground and twirled me around. "Hey, baby! Damn, I missed you, Ray."

"Missed you too," I said when he set me down. I kissed his cheek.

He picked his bag up with one hand and took my hand in the other. "Come on in, babe. I want to sit with you for awhile."

We walked up the stairwell to his place, stopping once so that he could hug me again. Once inside his small apartment, he dropped the bag and led me over to the couch. He took my coat, hung it up, and I sat down while he put a pot of coffee on. "Sorry... fueling my addiction," he said, laughing. He sat beside me and stared at me for a minute.

"What?" I said, a little embarassed.

"I've just missed looking at you," he said, brushing my hair from my face. He pulled his hand back and looked down, almost ashamed. "I'm sorry... about what happened on the phone a few days ago. I... crossed the line."

I flushed when he mentioned it. "Don't... be sorry. I'm not... You didn't sully me or anything," I said.

"I don't want you to think I don't respect you."

I moved closer to him, kissing his lips softly. He kissed back, barely, running his lips over mine, and then pulled me tight against him. He kissed me again, tracing his tongue over my lips. I opened them and leaned into him. It had been weeks since I'd been kissed and I couldn't stop the moan that rose in my throat. I ran my hands against his chest, and pulled back. "I never thought that," I said.

"I need to ask you something, though."

"Shoot," I said, taking his hand in mine.

He raised my hand to his mouth and kissed it, never taking his eyes off mine. "How... uh... Damn, I don't know how to ask this."

"Is this about previous experience?" I said.

"Yeah."

I groaned inwardly. I hated this, but knew it was coming. "I'm not a virgin," I said, feeling, and not for the first time, incredibly ashamed by that. I looked down at the floor. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to see his disappointment that he was dating a slut. Memories poured back, and I wanted to cry, seeing the guys who said they loved me, who used me, who walked away first time I got emotional. I fought back tears, but I still felt horribly dirty. I wondered what Mike would think when I told him. I knew he wouldn't walk away from me, he was too good for that, but all it proved was he was too good for me, then. The voice in my head told me to quit beating myself up over things, to just let what happens, happen. I couldn't.

Mike lifted his hand to my face, and gently made me look up at him. He smiled at me, and hugged me.

"I'm not going to judge you, Ray."

I pulled back. "But you should. I'm not... a good guy, Mike."

"Don't you say that," he said firmly. "Don't you dare."

I moved away from him and looked him in the eye. "I'm a slut, Mike."

"Stop it, Raymond."

"I slept with three guys, Mike. One of them, I didn't even know his last name."

He was silent for a minute. Then, "Three?"

I looked at my hands. "Yeah."

"Honey," he said, "if it had been thirty, you could call yourself a slut. But three, babe, that's nothing."

"It's not nothing, Mike." I looked at him. "I was desperate. I spread my legs. I knew they didn't care, I knew it was wrong, I knew I was fucking up. I did it because I was horny, damnit, and I didn't want to wait. The number doesn't matter. I let them do things to me that-"

"Shut up," he said. He stood up and pulled me up, too. He put his hands on my shoulders. "I don't care about that, Ray. You aren't a slut. You were a kid, an emotionally vulnerable kid, and you made stupid mistakes. You're a beautiful person and I don't care about your past. I love you for who you are, right here and now."

I started to cry then. He held me close to him until the tears stopped. "I'm sorry," I said, weakly.

"Don't be. You've got a lot of things to work out emotionally."

"You sound like a shrink."

He wiped a stray tear from under my eye. "It ain't psychology, baby. It's love. You never had a dad, you lost your mom, you've dealt with the ugly side of life since the day you were born. You don't deserve to hurt anymore over the shit in the past."

"What about your past? It's nothing more than what you've gone through and you don't break down crying. It's not vulnerability, it's weakness."

"Trust me baby, I've cried enough over things. And I'll probably cry about it later on, too. It's not weak to cry. It means you trust me to let me see you."

I looked at him, in awe that not only was he serious, but that he really did love me, and I could feel it. I lay my head on his shoulder. "I hope you're patient," I said.

He laughed. "Oh, just wait until I freak out. Then we'll see who needs patience."

"Mike?"

"That's me," he said, smiling.

"I know you aren't those guys. But... I need..." I couldn't get it out.

"What, darlin'?"

"I need... for us to wait... I need to know you are serious."

"You mean to make love?"

He said "make love" not "have sex" or "screw"... The thought made me perk up a little.

"Yes."

"Then we wait. But baby..."

"What?"

"I love you. Sex or no."

* * * * *

Mike was right. I thought about the conversation- and my break-down- the week before: I definitely had a lot of things to work out in my life.

The main one, unfortunately, was standing right in front of me, waiting to be let into my apartment.

"Jeff..."

"Hey, Raymond," he said, smiling. I took a mental inventory- his face wasn't sunken in like it had been. He wasn't as skinny as he had been. His skin was tanned, completely unlike the sallow mess it had been when I'd last seen him, six months ago.

Good sign, I thought. Maybe he's actually clean.

Jeff was Amanda's older brother. He was 21, and had been on and off drugs, namely heroin, since he was 15. He coasted around, fucking up the lives of people he claimed to love, including his parents, his sister, the woman who loved him, and the baby he'd abandoned.

I was on that list, too... The experimental boyfriend. But as fucked over as I'd been in the deal too, I still cared deeply for him. He had been my first, and more than that, he had been my friend. Six months before that day, he'd shown up in Canada, saying he was getting clean. He swore to love me forever. It was alright for awhile. I felt alright being with him... But only alright. Things were never perfect. I always felt like something was wrong, that he'd disappear again like always and screw me over once more.

And he did. He left about six weeks later, and never said a word to me. I was a mess for a long time- I was always a mess after him. It happened again and again, since I was 15. He'd show up, I'd let him into my heart and eventually he'd talk his way into my bed, too. And I let it happen. Fuck... who was I kidding?

But there he was, smiling, as charming as ever. My heart did a backflip, as did my stomach.

"I missed you, love," he said...

"Jeff? What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Nice to see you too," he said, his smile faltering. "I wanted to let you know that I-"

"Do you have any idea how bad you hurt your parents? Your sister or brothers?" I couldn't resist the tirade. "Not to mention the shit you pulled with Melissa and Jake and fucking everyone! What is wrong with you?"

"Please, baby-"

"Don't call me baby," I said, fuming.

"I came back here because I want you to know that I love you..."

"Shove it, Jeff," I said, shutting the door.

"No!" He put his foot in the doorframe. "Hear me out."

"You left in the morning before I woke up. I got out of bed and all your shit was gone. No note, no call, nothing. And you do it every damned time. Will was right about you, you goddamned user!"

"You said you love me," he said, infuriated.

"I did say it, Jeff. But you have used me for the last damn time."

"Fuck it, Ray, I'm clean and I want to-"

"Ray? Babe? There a problem?" Mike entered the scene with perfect timing. He stood behind Jeff, looking around him at me.

"Hey, Mike," I said, relieved. To Jeff, "Just get outta here. Stay out of my life, alright?"

He spun around to Mike. "Who the hell are you?" he yelled.

"I'm his fiance. Who the hell are you?" Mike was calm, but I could tell that the shit would hit the fan.

Jeff turned back to me. "You asshole!"

"Oh, I'm the asshole?" I asked. "After you left in the middle of the night like I was your personal whore or something? I'm not, Jeff. I never was. You used your parents, you used Amanda, you used your brothers, you used me, you used my love, and you used my friendship. I'm tired of your crap. So fuck off."

"I fucking hate you!"

"Good," I said. "Maybe it will remind you then to stay out of my life."

"I tried to-"

Mike cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I don't know you, but Ray told you to leave. So do it."

Jeff knocked his hand off. "Fuck you, too." He looked back at me. "Fucking low standards you have, if this ugly piece of shit really is your new man. Fuck, man, you had me and you go for that. You're a dumber slut than I thought."

* * * * *

"Raymond... baby..." I felt a hand on my face, another hand on my chest. "C'mon, baby, wake up for me."

I opened my eyes to see Mike's face next to mine. I looked around. I lay on the couch, Mike kneeling beside me. "Welcome back to the living," he said, smiling.

"What happened?"

"Well, that guy yelled at you, said some horrible stuff, you hit the deck, I hit him, he left, and then I carried you in here."

"Did I black out?"

"Not really... You were awake when I carried you in. I think you spaced though when I laid you down."

"How long ago was this?"

"Five minutes, maybe. You okay?"

"I think so..."

"You didn't hit your head or anything. Dizzy?"

"No... Confused."

"Well, that makes two of us. You wanna sit up?" Mike helped me sit up, and remained kneeling in front of me. "I'm assuming that was an old flame."

"Sort of... Mike..." I reached out to touch his face. "Did you really hit him?"

He held up his hand. His knuckle was bruised. "Nobody's gonna be talking to you that way."

I smiled wanly. "Are you going to hit everyone who yells at me?"

"Baby, it wasn't just that. He was in front of me and he moved toward you. I panicked. My mind jumped to protection-mode." He laid his head in my lap. "I wouldn't have done it but then you fell, and I was scared."

I stroked his hair and bent to, albeit awkwardly, kiss his head. He looked up at me. "I know that obviously this guy hurt you bad and if you don't want to talk about it now that's fine, but eventually we'll need to discuss it."

I sighed. "Well, it's now or never."

Mike came up and sat beside me.

I took a deep breath. "That was Jeff. Amanda's brother."

"I have a feeling this is a long story," Mike said.

"Very. When I was 15..."

* * * * *

By the time I was done, it was getting dark outside. I had laughed, cried, nearly screamed in the retelling. I told Mike everything- Jeff's drug use, how I had covered for him, even the awful night that I lost my virginity. Mike never said a word. He held my hand, squeezed it when I cried, but never stopped me from talking. I felt like I was pouring out poison from inside of me.

Will came in at one point, coming home from work. He saw us there, me crying and Mike sitting patiently. He walked over and hugged me close for a second. Then he kind of surprised me- he hugged Mike, too. "Whatever's going on," he said, "if I can help, tell me. But for now I'm going to let you guys talk." He set his stuff down and left again.

When I was done, Mike still said nothing. He kissed me, took my hand, and led me into my bedroom. He carefully took off my clothes, and got sweatpants from my dresser. He held them out to me, and steadied me as I put them on. Then he pulled back the covers, and helped me into bed. He took off his clothes as well, leaving only his boxers, and climbed in with me. I feel asleep in his arms, safe.

When I woke up the next morning, he was staring at me. It took me a minute to come-to completely, and I smiled. "'Mornin'."

He laughed and kissed the tip of my nose. He leaned over the edge of the bed, grabbed his jeans, and fished something out of the pocket. "No offense, babe," he said, handing me a Tic-Tac, "but you need one."

I took the mint and pulled the covers up over us again. "Better?" I asked.

"Yeah." He hugged me close. "You feel better?"

"Mmmm," I said, curling into his chest.

"Is that a yes?"

"Mmmm," I repeated, laughing a little.

"Does this mean you're going back to sleep?"

"Mmmm."

I woke up again a few hours later. The sun had risen and a slash of light went across Mike's back as he lay on his stomach, snoring softly. I stretched out next to
him and kissed his cheek, thanking God for that horrible day in November when I met Michael Hunter-Moon.

* * * * *

Things calmed down, thankfully. By the end of February, the worst of the drama was over. I'd gone through my spiritual agony, severed ties as best I could with Jeff (something I should have done years ago), and spent plenty of nights lying awake thinking, "What are you doing?"

March was a month of sanity and calm for me. School was going better than ever, work was being very good to me, and I felt secure in my life. Mike and I were getting closer by the day. I watched a baseball game with him on TV, and he watched a recording of "Rigoletto" with me. We were learning to compromise and love things we hated, as long as it meant having some time to be together.

I also learned, after cooking dinner for him one night, that he is desperately allergic to blueberries.

So after a homemade muffin, a short stay at the ER, and a couple of shots in his ass, Mike explained that he can't be anywhere near blueberries. Resignedly, I gave up my favorite fruit, and he in turn gave up drinking Miller Light because I hate the smell. Life moved on.

The weather warmed up, and we set a date for the Friday after Easter.

* * * * *

April 7, 2006 will always be remembered as the strangest day of my entire life.

It was a Friday morning, and a gorgeous spring day, too. It was exactly two weeks before we were to be married. Since it was only going to be a small thing, with my brother and his friend Rusty as witnesses, we weren't concerned about planning the wedding in the least. So that morning we had finished all the stuff we needed to do, including the paperwork. Legally, we were set, and all we needed was to have someone officiate, and witnesses jot their signatures.

So that morning, over an early lunch, we both felt a little like we were suspended in midair and had to wait awhile before coming down. We had spent the last few weeks getting things together, me getting ready to move into his place, getting the money bit squared away so we could put our money into a common pot, and such. It was all very tedious, but at least it gave me something to do, made us feel like we were starting to build a marriage. And then, suddenly, there was nothing else to do, but wait.

"So why don't we just get married this afternoon?" Mike said, sipping his coffee.

I laughed. "Yeah, since we don't have any other plans or anything..."

"I'm serious," Mike said.

"What?"

"Let's do it. Let's get married this afternoon."

"Mike," I said, "we can't do that!"

"Why not?"

I didn't have an answer.

"Exactly. There's no reason we can't. So..." He stood up, stretched, and turned to me. "Raymond Daniel Walkes, marry me. Today."

It was nearly nine before we got in that night. Will and Rusty insisted on taking us to dinner, and then we partied at a local club. It was fun, a lot of laughing and joking around and, on Mike and I's part, a lot of looking at each other, giggling, and thinking, "What the fuck have we done?"

When we finally got back to Mike's place, our place, it hit me.

We were married.

* * * * *

* * * * *

“Mike…” I groaned as he unzipped my jeans. We knelt on his bed, facing each other. He lowered them down to my thighs. He reached out and carefully ran his fingertips against me. I almost cried out. I’d craved this for months, and now it was real. I couldn’t have stopped. There was no way.

He eased me onto my back and pulled my jeans off. He sat up and fumbled with his belt. I reached for it, unbuckling it for him, opening his pants to get my first look at what I’d fantasized about since December. I literally gasped, looking at him. When I got his pants off his legs and threw them to the floor, Mike laid back. I stared in wonder at what was in front of me.

I’d heard people term men as “sex gods” but never understood it. Then I saw Mike naked. His torso was laced with muscles, his thighs strong and thick. Where his left leg tapered down into the prosthetic, the scars reaching across the red-brown skin were strangely beautiful… breathtaking. And… I’d been right- he was definitely a well-endowed man. I wrapped my hand around him and pumped. He moaned and I grinned. “What?” he asked.

I bent down and kissed him. “I married some kind of sex god.”

He pulled me down on top of him, leaving me straddling him and helpless against the lust washing over me. He chuckled deep in his chest and put his lips against my ear. “Baby,” he said, “I love you.”

I kissed his neck and then sucked until I got a perfect little bruise. “I marked you,” I whispered.

He effortlessly flipped me onto my back and put his thighs between mine. “You’re mine.”

* * * * *

I woke up in an unfamiliar room, unfamiliar bed. For a split second, panic seized me. I reached out for something, now knowing what, and my hand brushed warm skin. I looked at the man next to me and realized, “This is your husband. This is your life.” Mike lay on his back, one arm up and behind his head, the other around my shoulder. I moved up until I was eye-level, and stared at him as he slept. Tears started from somewhere behind my eyes, and I watched as one dripped from my chin onto his cheek.

His green eyes opened, confused, and he sat up. “Baby?” he whispered, taking me in his arms, against his chest. “Baby, don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

“I’m scared, Mike.”

He put a finger under my chin and lifted it until I looked in his eyes. “Scared of what?”

I choked against the words. “What if you made a mistake with me? What if you wake up in the morning and see what a huge fuck-up this is?”

“Hey,” he said, brushing the tears from my eyes with his thumbs. “I didn’t make a mistake. You’re the best choice I ever made.” His arms went around me again, one holding me tight as the other stroked my hair and back. When the tears had stopped and I caught my breath, he laid me down again.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, “oh God, I love you so much.”

“Then there’s no mistake.” He kissed me once, and then again, slipping his tongue between my lips. We made out like that for awhile. Finally, Mike pulled back. “Need a reminder how much I love you?” he asked, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

I smiled back. “Couldn’t hurt.”

He prepared me again, and I noticed that already his touch felt perfect and familiar. He put himself between my legs, lifting them up onto his forearms. He slowly sank inside of me again. I arched my back and let out a long, low cry. He went slow, every movement he made meant to bring me higher. I needed more. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts and started to beg. “Please, Mike, harder…”

He hesitated at first, but finally gave into my request. I closed my eyes and called his name as his thrusts threatened to force me down through the bed. “Look at me,” he said, breathless.

I opened my eyes and looked into his. He smiled and then shouted, and I felt him explode inside of me. I tripped then too, but struggled to keep my eyes on his. I realized that I was seeing a part of him I didn’t know existed, that dominance and power that were hidden under an easy-going manner and ready laugh. I felt totally powerless and vulnerable as he collapsed on top of me. I realized that he was a man that could easily overpower me, that I was almost weak next to him. But I realized too that I was okay with that. I was even happy with that. I was surprised to find myself thinking that way, but I’d never been in a position where I could submit to someone else so completely and still be completely safe. And then I thought that not only was I totally in his power, but he was in mine. He had submitted to me as well, given me something he’d never given anyone else. It wasn’t just the sex either (though, as I caught my breath, I thought the sex alone would’ve been worth it). It was everything in him, and it all belonged to me. I knew then that he was right, it was no mistake.

He stirred on top of me, pulling himself out and then reaching for the towel we’d pretty much ruined. He cleaned me gently, kissing my lips and eyelids as his hand moved across my chest and abdomen. He rolled off to clean himself, but I took the towel from him and did it myself. I tossed the towel to the side and ran my hand along his tummy. “You’re still sticky,” I mumbled.

He climbed off the bed and took my hand. “C’mon, we could both use a bath.”

I followed him down the hall to his bathroom. He sat on the side of the tub, testing the water. I glanced in the mirror. I’d known we’d gone a little nuts with the biting and sucking, but in the bathroom’s harsh light, I saw dozens of red marks and love bites on my neck, chest and shoulders. I touched them softly, amazed at the way I’d been branded. The only times another person left bruises on me was from violence. All of these were from love. Mike saw me looking at myself in the mirror. He laughed. “I left you looking like one big hickey.”

I turned around and saw for the first time the scratches I’d left on his back and neck. They were bright red and raised, like tracks against his skin. “Oh God, Mike…” I touched one, and he looked over his shoulder at the mirror, seeing his back.

“Yeah, you got carried away too.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I hadn’t realized…”

He cut me off. “I want to have those there.” He got in the tub and settled into the warm water, holding a hand out to me. “It’s like a cattle brand. Only, I had a lot more fun getting them.”

We soaked in the water until the steam had all faded away and the water was barely lukewarm. I relaxed with my back against his chest, feeling completely sated and happy. I closed my eyes and dozed as Mike washed us with a soft, fluffy washcloth. The moment was finally over when Mike kissed my ear. “Your sex god is all pruny.” I giggled. “And he’s sleepy.” I sighed. “And he needs to pee.” I relented, and climbed out of the tub. We did our thing and slowly wandered back to bed.

I crawled under the covers, still naked, and lay on my side in Mike’s arms, my head tucked under his chin. I could feel his heart beating. I fell asleep listening to his heart and breath and occasionally, his voice. He told me he loved me again and again. I was too drained to respond, so I kissed the base of his throat and drifted off.

* * * * *

I awoke on Saturday morning, feeling more whole than I think I ever had. I felt Michael pressed against my back, his arm over my chest. I was probably grinning like a fool, enjoying the feel of physical contact after waking up alone for so long. Mike’s breath was steady and calm, and his heart beat with a perfect rhythm against my shoulder blades. I was worn out from the night we had spent memorizing the feel, taste, smell of each other. My mind, on the other hand, was refusing to shut off. But it was a good kind of mental hyperactivity. The kind where I went through all the moments leading up to this, every word and kiss and promise we shared. I was lost in my head when I heard Mike’s voice singing softly in my ear.

“Every long-lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Leading me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you…”

I had never heard him sing, except jokingly. His voice was a mellow tenor, like the way I always felt a man’s voice should be. The vibrations from his chest rumbled against my back as he sang Rascall Flatt’s words into my ear. I rolled over and faced him. I didn’t care about the morning breath, or the matted hair, or the groggy, half-asleep eyes. I kissed him for all I was worth.

“Well, yeehaw,” he said as I pulled back. “Good mornin’!” He rolled onto his back and stretched.

I yawned and scooted closer, putting my lips on the warm place where his neck and shoulders meet, kissing him on that spot. He moaned a little (I filed that spot away for future use), and I rested my head on his shoulder. “It’s a great morning.”

He was silent for a minute, and then when he spoke, his voice caught in his throat. “I love you, Raymond.” He breathed deep. “I feel… complete now. Like I’m a person that’s living and not just existing.” His voice shook. “Can you understand?”

I lifted my head and kissed his lips. “I understand.”

He brushed a lock of hair out of my face, and then cupped my cheek in his hand. His eyes were shining, wet, and the first tear fell slowly, tracing down the side of his face. “I ain’t good with words, baby. I can’t say it right.”

“It’s fine, Mike. You don’t have to say anything. I know what you mean.”

He sat up and looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. “I just get so caught up in you sometimes. Like there’s nothing else to notice but you.” He opened his arms to me and I leaned into his chest. “You fell asleep last night and I felt you breathe and move and I…” He sobbed once, and rested his head on top of mine. “I love you so fucking much,” he said, crying. “Love you more than heaven…”

I held him like he had done for me the night before. When he had calmed, I told him that I loved him, too, and always would. I took his hand in mine and led him into the bathroom. I started pulled back the curtain on the tub and started the water. I knelt in front of Mike and released the clip that held his prosthetic to his thigh. “Don’t…” he said.

“Why?”

“It’s awful, Ray. The scars… I just…”

I moved the prosthetic away slowly, carefully, seeing for the first time the extent of the damage the blade had done to his skin. The scars that I found so beautiful fed down onto a small, rough mound beneath the torn skin. The bottom of his femur showed through the thin flesh from the skin graft, the shorn bone’s sharp edge held the skin taut against the angles left carved into his bones by the saw. I kissed that edge of the bone. Doing that felt, somehow, like the last step of the consummation of our marriage. It made it seem… final.

I helped him into the tub, and then lowered myself in, kneeling in front of him. “You’re my whole life now, Mike.” I kissed his nose. “This is real.”

Thirty minutes later, our emotions were spent, and as we got ready for the day, we laughed and joked and horsed around. It was just like it had been the day before, except for that one small change.

We were whole.