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JACOB

Skye’s face lights up like a full moon on a dark night as she flicks through the pages of her book.

All I want is to make her happy.

“We should put this in a glass case and put it on display in the hallway,” I suggest.

“Why?”

“Because it’s special.”

“It should be read and enjoyed; we need to put it in the library.”

She scrunches her nose up, not agreeing with me.

“Your turn.” She looks excited.

Unlike Skye, I rip the navy paper off in one go from my thin, twelve-inch square gift. Unwrapped, now I hold my hands on either side of the Crazy Town album I played over and over again when I was sixteen because it was always, always about her.

“It’s signed.” She points to the silver signature in the top corner.

“That’s so cool.” Where the hell did she get this?

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” I love her.

“eBay,” she chuckles. “You get everything on there.”

I wish that were true. If I could buy something to wipe away the memories of her horrific ordeal, I would. I lean to the side and kiss her shoulder. “Thank you.”

I flip the twelve-inch vinyl record over in my hand to remind myself of the running order. So cool.

Laying her book on the bed, she leans forward, picks her mug of coffee and then mine off the tray, and passes it to me.

I take a sip and look around the house we’ve yet to make our home. I know with Skye’s creative design skills she’s going to make this place look incredible. “Will you be happy here?” I ask.

“If we get a better heating system installed, yes. Otherwise, I might freeze to death.”

She’s not wrong; the place is freezing. “What time is everyone coming today for Sunday dinner?”

“Early. They are all coming to help clean up.”

Thank Christ, the place looks like a bomb site down the stairs. I’m now regretting the decision to host a small wedding and do everything by ourselves.

Both our parents, our grandparents, my brother, sister, and their spouses, along with their brood of children, are coming to the house today. Skye wants this to be our family tradition: everyone, every Sunday, comes to us.

My nieces and nephews love the house, and I can’t wait to create so many new memories together as one big family unit.

“Do we have time for me to show you how big my sword is before they get here?” I slyly glance her way.

Without blinking, she replies, “Is it bigger than the heroes I read about in my books?”

“Much, much bigger.” I grin against the lip of my mug, take a sip and place it on the nightstand.

“Show me,” she challenges.

I take her mug from her hand and put it beside mine. Grabbing my phone, I scroll to find the song I’m after and hit play.

She bursts out laughing when the electric guitar strings play from “Butterfly” by Crazy Town.

“Oh my God, this song is so sexual,” she says, still laughing.

“I know and I fucking love it.” I climb on top of her as she sinks into the mattress and I start singing the words against the shell of her ear, making her giggle even more.

“You were so young; how did you even know what that meant?”

I nudge open her legs with my knees and move myself between her thighs.

“Oh, I knew.” I don’t tell her about the deeper meaning of the song for me, about how she makes me feel uplifted and free, like a butterfly, so I go with the filthy meaning of the song instead. “My wish for today is that you come all over my dick, but what do you wish for, m’lady?”

“I wish to be ravished.” She gazes up at me.

“Done.” I kiss her lips.

“I wish to be looked after.” She wraps her legs around my hips.

“Done.” I kiss her neck.

“I wish to be adored.”

“Done.” I kiss her lips again.

“I wish to be loved.”

“Done, done, done, done, done.” I kiss her all over, making her squeal.

Neither of us ever need to wish for anything again, because we have everything we want.

With each other.

It was touch and go and for a fleeting moment I didn’t think we’d get it, but we did.

Our happy ever after.

Well… maybe…

Skye stops kissing me as she moves her mouth to the side. “Where’s that sound of running water coming from?”

I lean away, propping myself up on my hands on either side of her face, and listen. “This fucking house.” I roll my eyes.

Dick fully erect in my boxers, I jump out of the bed to go on a water leak search party.

“You love it, really,” Skye shouts out to me as I run down the spiral staircase.

I love her.

My butterfly.