Page 121 of Ripple Effect

“Our first nominee, CMML, Baltimore, MD.”

“Their design is amazing, Cal,” Libby hisses. “I drove by it the other day.”

“Why would you do that?” I mutter back.

“I was curious.”

“You wanted to scope out the competition.”

“Maybe, but…” She doesn’t get to finish as the next nominee is announced.

“B+B, Arlington, Virginia.”

“So brilliant! Their design team turned this old hotel into a high-class shopping mall.”

“How much did that recon cost me?”

Libby just smacks me in the arm.

“Simon, Harley & Hurst, Washington, DC,” the announcer proclaims to loud applause.

“They’re the favorite. You should see the corporate headquarters they redesigned.” Libby names the company, and I whistle aloud.

I earn an elbow to the ribs and a turned-up nose. “Next time, hire them.”

“There won’t be a next time,” I murmur into her hair as I inhale the fresh scent of Libby’s shampoo. “Libs, relax. You already won.”

Slowly, her head twists until our noses are touching. “I know. I won the first time you asked me out. I won the day you came back, the night you first kissed me.”

I interrupt. “You told me you loved me first.”

“Semantics. I was under fear of dying if you’ll recall.”

I grin against her lips. “I’ll never forget it.” I’ll never forget any of it.

“I kept on winning the day you proposed, the day we married. So, we hit a losing streak.” She shrugs as if the years our marriage was on thin ice weren’t the worst of both of our lives—when the lies I told almost did us in. “We came back in the bottom of the ninth and hit a home run with bases loaded.”

“You’re watching too much baseball lately,” I chide gently.

“You can’t say that about the Nats, honey. It’s impossible.” But her smile broadens.

As does mine.

“And no matter what, no matter what, as long as I have you, Jax, Leah, and this little one.” She rubs her hand over her stomach. “I don’t need a piece of paper to validate everything we went through was worth it.” Cupping my jaw as her lips brush against mine, she whispers, “I love you, Cal.”

“I love you, Libby. Always.”

“And the winner of the Pinnacle Award goes to Deja Vu DC!”

We’re still kissing as Libby wins the award of her career. We’re too busy reminding each other that for almost twenty years—since the moment our eyes met across a bar and I gave in to what I had been feeling for her—the ripples of awareness have never stopped.

Not once.

“I guess I can’t lose tonight.” Libby’s face is wreathed in smiles when I finally let her up for air.

My lips curve in a smile down at the woman who taught it to me. “Try not to get so mushy this time, okay?”

“Now look at who’s throwing sass?” Plucking one last kiss from my lips, Libby strides her way confidently back up onto the stage but not before I see the tears pooling in her eyes.

And all I can do is stand, applaud, and smile—God, I can do nothing but smile at the woman who taught me how to do it—knowing that our lives may never be completely without storms, but as long as we have each other, we’ll be able to weather them.

As Libby’s eyes find mine, I know what she’s thinking. Our lives haven’t been perfect. They’ve been riddled with the kinds of storms that would have broken a love weaker than ours. We learned to cherish every moment, to ride the waves as they’ve come up. Because in the end, our love has been the end result neither of us would change. I mouth to her, “I love you.”

And I always will.

The End