95. Lolly
ninety-five
Lolly
I can smell him everywhere, that perfect blend of citrus and everything Bailey holding me close while I run my fingers through his hair. I can’t believe I’m here. That he’s mine.
He loves me.
I pull in a deep breath, holding it, and letting it out. Letting go of everything that stood between us. All my uncertainties.
“I wish I could see you,” he says softly.
“Why’s that?”
“I want to know why you’re huffing,” he teases.
“I wasn’t huffing,” I argue.
“You so were,” he laughs before placing a gentle kiss to my lips.
“Where are your glasses?” I ask.
“Ugh,” he groans. “They’re on your side, well—my side but the side you’re on,” he explains.
My mouth turns up into a grin as I roll away from him. I don’t see his glasses on the table so I gently pull the drawer open. My heart stills in my chest when a single black feather flits a few inches above the contents.
I find it with a trembling hand, my breaths unsteady as I twirl it between my fingers, baffled, and awestruck. The iridescent glitter still coats the edges, every color I’ve missed out on waiting here this whole time.
“Did you find them?” He asks, voice heavy with exhaustion.
“No,” I try to say, but it’s barely a whisper.
I feel his weight shift behind me, pulling at the mattress the way my heart is pulling in my chest.
“Is this…” I can’t find the words as a deluge of emotions rush through the very fiber of my being.
“Oh, I um,” he stammers, eyes wide, face flushed as his gaze darts between my eyes and back to the feather.
“Is this from my wings?” I finally form the words.
“Yeah, I um, I found it in my apartment after you left that night,” he says, voice humming with nervous anticipation.
“And you’ve kept it? You’ve had it all these years?”
He smiles, looking at me through long lashes, “Yeah, I kept it next to me this whole time.”
“Why?” I don’t mean for the word to slip from my lips but it does. The idea that he’s held onto a part of me, of us, for so long has changed something inside of me. Some seemingly unreachable chasm now full.
“Because I couldn’t let go,” he says gently. “Even when I wanted to, I couldn’t let go.”
And just when I thought I couldn’t love him more.
“I missed you,” I say. “Every fucking day, I missed you.”
He presses a soft kiss to my lips, “I missed you too.”
“Unicorns and rainbows,” I huff with a laugh.
“Huh?” He asks, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Unicorns and rainbows,” I repeat. “It’s something Jay said a long time ago,” I say, unable to stop the smile from forming on my face.
“Don’t lose my feather,” he yawns.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say before planting a kiss on his head, placing the feather back in the drawer, and holding my world in my arms as we drift off to sleep.