I sit there and I cry. Silent tears. My head bent. Hands gripping the side of the mattress. Shoulders slouched.

I can’t face him.

I hear him pack more of my things, of my life. Everything I have left in this world, packed up in a few boxes.

And I cry.

He shuffles in and out of the room. Taking boxes and bags with him.

And I cry.

Because it’s all I can do. When your heart breaks and you lose absolutely everything you have left in your life. The only thing you can do is cry.

I don’t wail.

I don’t sob.

I just sit in silence and let the tears fall.

Because in my mind, playing like a fucking movie, is all the regrets I’ve ever had.

Every moment where I should have told him. That he was it. He was my Prince Charming. My White Knight. My Happily Ever After. My every fucking thing.

Then I feel him, his presence in front of me, and I’m too shit scared to open my eyes.

His hands are soft as they reach for mine, lifting them to place them behind his neck.

And I know what this is, this sad fucking goodbye that I can’t take. So I do nothing.

But then his hands are behind my thighs and he’s lifting me in the air and my grip around his neck tightens as my legs automatically go around his waist.

He’s moving us, walking, one hand behind my back and the other behind my head, like I’m a fucking baby. Because I am. I’m a fucking baby and I need my Mommy and Daddy so fricken much.

I hold on to him so tightly, like I want to climb him and never ever want to let go, because I don’t. Want to let go, I mean.

All of a sudden I’m laying on something soft and something warm is covering me and it feels so familiar but I can’t comprehend what it is and I still don’t want to open my eyes and face reality.

The next second I’m laying on my side, and he’s in front of me. His arms wrapped around me so tight, it’s hard to breath. But I breath through it, because I want to feel alive in this moment. The last few moments we have together, I want to remember every single piece of him. So I open my eyes and he’s there.

We’re in his bed.

Under my comforter.

Surrounded by boxes of my things.

He kisses away the tears that have fallen all over my wet face. Then he looks at me, really looks at me.

And then his lips are on mine, and my eyes close because the sensation is so overpowering. At first they don’t move, like we’re just connected there, waiting for the sparks of the touch to sizzle away. But after a few moments, he opens them slightly and our lips start moving together. Like a perfect fucking symphony. His arms are around me and my hands are gripping his shirt and then his tongue brushes against my lips and I moan in pleasure.

When our tongues touch for the first time, I see white behind my eyes. And I know it. I get it. That my mom was so fricken right about this moment.

We’re holding on to each other and we’re kissing, with lips and tongues and so much fricken passion that I don’t know if either of us is actually breathing.

Jake Andrews was wrong. He was so wrong. He didn’t need to do this to make me his. I was his the moment he asked me to move here with him. And the moment he held my hand at the funeral. The moment he took me into his home when I had nowhere else to go. I was his the moment he held me, while I cried in the back of that ambulance. When he was my strength when I had none. I was his the moment he cleared his throat, and I looked up at him with tears in my eyes, in that tiny little hallway just outside the restrooms at that restaurant.

And I knew it, I knew it when we were at Walmart and I was fixing his tie, that was the exact second I knew, that instant, intense feeling I had, meant that I was standing in front of my forever.

***

We kiss for so long our lips begin to ache. When we finally pull away, we look into each other eyes.

Talking, without speaking.

But something needs to be said, because I never want to go another day without him knowing.

“Jake, I am so much more than a lot in love with you.”

And then he kisses me again, but this time, it’s different. This time it’s less intimate and more passionate.

He dips his tongue in further as he positions himself on top of me. His weight held up by his forearms.

He kisses with so much passion I almost forget that this is our first time. His lower body pressed against mine and his hardness grinding into me.

His kisses move from my mouth and work there way to my jaw, then down my neck to my chest.

I’m trying to take his shirt off because I need to feel him, all of him. He sits up to remove his shirt and does the same with mine.

“I want you so bad, Kayla,” he whispers into my neck.

“I’m all yours,” I tell him. Because I am.

And then he reciprocates.

Three times in a fucking row, he reciprocates, and it feels so fricken good, I don’t know if I’m dreaming it. After the second time, I beg him to stop but he just keeps fucking going, with his mouth and his tongue and his fingers, and I know that everything before must have been done so goddamn wrong, because Jake Andrews knows. He knows how to do things so goddamn right.

Once he's inside me, I work it out, why I never felt like this before. Because if I compare my feelings for Jake to anyone else, then I know. I know I’ve never loved anyone before. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.

Chapter 49

*Mikayla*

*Age 8*

“Okay, sweetheart. What story would you like to read?”

“I want you to tell me a story, my own story please, Mommy,” she smiles at me. Her brown eyes softening when she sees my pleading face.

“Okay, I’ll tell you a very special story. It’s a fairytale, about kissing a Prince.”

“Yuck, Mommy! Kissing is gross.”

She laughs a little. I don’t know why, I don’t think it’s funny.

“This is about a special kiss. Are you ready?”

“Yep.” I nod.

“One day in the future Kayla, you’ll meet a handsome Prince. A Prince so handsome, he will make your heart skip.”

I giggle, so does she.

“Every Princess has one Prince to share the loves and joys of life, and do you know how that Princess knows which Prince is hers?”

“How Mommy?”

“From the kiss.”

“But how?”

“The very first kiss with your Prince will change your life. When your lips touch for the first time, the earth will feel like it stops moving, but in the same moment, the world around you spins. It’ll feel like fireworks in the night sky. Like a bright light in the darkness. You’ll feel your heart beat fast in your ears but silence will surround you. And when you pull apart and open your eyes and look at each other, and really see each other. You’ll know it in that moment, through that kiss, that you’ve just let someone own a piece of your heart, and you’ll live happily ever after.”

Chapter 50

*Mikayla*