33. Hayworth
One Year Later
“You’ve got a letter, Hayworth!” Arya jumps on the bed, almost kneeing me in the groin and pushes an envelope in my face.
She’s grown so much. I might have only known her for a year but it’s as if she’s gotten twice as tall in that time. Every once in a while I’ll randomly notice her features have changed slightly or Elsa’s hair has darkened, and feel like an old man.
It’s funny how you notice these kinds of changes when you’ve got kids in your life, something I never planned for or intended.
But then again I often catch myself noticing little details about Felix too. Details that one could only notice from spending a lot of their time with another person. A person they love.
Like remembering all the beauty spots on his body, or how his back turns all freckly in the summer, or how his belly and thighs have filled out a little, a result of my feeding and working him out every day.
My man’s got muscles now. And he puts them to good use every night.
“Well, open it up,” Arya urges me.
I sit up in bed with a groan and she rolls down between Felix and me. I open the familiar envelope and take the letter out.
I remember when I wrote it a few years ago, when I visited the library to write a love letter to my future self. I didn’t remember the delivery date I’d set though but until I held the letter in my hand I’d forgotten all about it.
I don’t even remember what I wrote. So I unfold it.
Dear Future Hayworth , it reads.
It’s me. Past Hayworth with a message.
I sigh and brace myself.
Love is a toxic asshole that only poisons the mind.
I look at Felix who’s got his arm wrapped around Arya and watches me with sleepy eyes. They’re eyes I’ve been memorizing every day since I met him and I still don’t know them by heart, but I’m close. I know I am.
Love will find a way to twist your guts and rip your heart out. Always.
My chest flutters when I look at my guy. Looking at the girls who feel as if they’re my own. I know they’re not but that doesn’t stop me from loving them with all my heart, just like I love their dad. And this feeling is the best in the world. I wouldn’t change it for all the money.
Love is for losers and we’re winners.
We’ve built a life together. Or are trying to. We still don’t live together or spend every day together, but whatever time we do spend with each other we enjoy. I enjoy it. We’re taking things slow, for the girls and for us. Not because we’re unsure of each other but because this is the pace that fits us and our lives. We don’t need to be married or living together to feel happy. We’re happy just as we are, and if that’s being a loser, then I don’t want to be a winner, ever.
That’s why we’ve made it our job to stop love from infecting more people, right?
I let out a chuckle.
Yeah, that used to be my job. These days I’m much happier running my adult playgrounds around Vermont and making people feel carefree and happy like they were when they were children.
If there’s someone who’s made love their job, that’s Felix with his romance writing, which has taken off for him. Not only does he write book after book, he’s also supporting his family with the income he makes out of writing and designing covers for romance novels.
I know you know all of this already, and I trust in us to keep up the work, but I thought I’d remind you in case you stray from the good path.
If that was the good path then I don’t know what this is, but I’m pretty sure my life now beats the misery of years past. And I’m good with that.
“What does it say?” Felix asks.
I crumple the paper and throw it to the floor, turning to hug my man and his girl.
“Just a bunch of bull from a fool,” I tell him and kiss his forehead.
“Sure?” he asks, piercing me with his green-gray gaze that has both the ability to weaken me and make me stronger.
“Absolutely,” I reassure him and kiss his nose.
“Good,” he whispers.
“Poppy, what’s bull?” Arya asks and Felix breaks first.
I laugh next.
This is my life now. Laughter. Smiles. Happiness. In no particular order.
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