She sighs contentedly, like we’re there again. “And we slept in every morning with the curtains drawn.”
“And we could hear the ocean from our bed. You smelled like coconut.” I’d rubbed cooling lotion into her burnt shoulders. We went in January, a month after our wedding. Everything was hectic before that. Good hectic, but I felt like I could breathe and just be with her there. We were cementing a commitment so itwould last us a lifetime. “It was a really good trip.”
“The best.” She’s looking at me with stars in her eyes, and it’s in that moment that I know we’ll find our way back there. Even if we have to trade Andrew and Marisol babysitting again. Even if Bea turns our neighborhood into a circus and I have to work from home the whole time and have Paxton right next to me asking me science questions and then answering them himself.
I owe Marisol everything because she brought me Rosalie. Andrew chose well, and so did I.
Rosalie clicks off the music, and I take her by the hand and lead her out of the kitchen. We put away the cat pianos, averting the disaster that would have been our Saturday morning if we’d left them out. At the bottom of the stairs, I snag the safari hat from the top of the toy basket and put it on. Rosalie laughs and steals it from me, putting it on her own head.
“I know how you feel about this thing, Liam.”
She’s not wrong. Our house isn’t Maui, but it’s pretty amazing. Anywhere Rosalie is, I want to be.
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