It terrifies me to hear him talk about pain and voices and imaginary evil birds. What did that feel like, in his head? I can’t even imagine.

“I believe you. I didn’t at first, but now I do.”

“I’m not going to hurt you again.”

I rub my hand over his chest and weigh his words. I know it’s very possible that while he might mean what he’s saying one hundred percent right now in this very moment, that someday, he might unintentionally hurt me again. The part of him that he doesn’t have full mental control over could come lurking out of its medicinal prison someday and wreak havoc on his life.

And mine. And our daughter’s.

“What if it happens again?” I ask. It’s the question Reece told me not to ask but it’s also the question that continues to run rampant through my mind. How can I not ask such an important question?

His body stiffens, and he hesitates a beat before he lets out a deep breath and answers.

“I’m not gonna lie, Piper. It could happen again. But it shouldn’t as long as I stay on my meds, try to keep my life as stress-free as possible, and stay in weekly therapy. Forever, basically. So if I start to get fucked up again, it’ll get caught before it gets out of control. I feel great, though. Better than ever. A little tired and moody sometimes, but nothing crazy. No pun intended.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

“If you see me acting weird, just say something, okay? I don’t want you to be scared.”

I chew my bottom lip. I am scared, but I don’t want him to know that. He needs me to trust him, and have faith in him and his recovery. If I’m analyzing his every move and mood, waiting for him to have a meltdown, neither one of us will ever be happy.

“We’re going to need some time, Piper,” he says softly. “I thought a weekend alone together would be a good start. To see if you still want to be with me. I left you alone for a long time. Maybe I’m not what you want anymore. Maybe someone like Josh would be better for you, even though it fucking kills me to say that.”

I lift my head to look at him. “No, he wouldn’t be. I want to be with you and only you. That’s not going to change. You should know that by now.”

“Even if I have to take ten pills a day?”

“Even if you have to take twenty.”

“Even if I’m not gonna be a rock star anymore?”

“I loved you before you were a rock star. That means nothing to me.”

He grins playfully, and it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. “Even if I want to ravish you every day?”

Smiling, I lean forward and kiss him. “You better.”

“Even if I want to run away and marry you because I’m the luckiest guy in the world?”

It feels like I’ve been chasing the dream of spending my life with him since the beginning of time. It’s been like trying to capture a butterfly—getting so close every time, only to watch him fly away out of reach again.

“And we have dreaded silence.”

I snap out of my worrying headspace. “No… I was just thinking.”

His smile morphs into an embarrassed lopsided frown.

“I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too soon for you to even think about that.”

I shake my head and gently push his hair out of his face. “It’s not. And you know what? That’s what I want to do when the time’s right. I don’t want a wedding.”

“What about all those wedding magazines with the color-coded Post-Its on your favorite stuff?”

“Eh. That just felt like what I should be doing. I’d much rather just elope with you and Lyric.”

The silver specks in his eyes light up like tiny holiday lights. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He cups my chin in his palm and kisses me feather-soft, lingering near my lips.

“Thank you for always waiting for me,” he whispers. “Want to know a secret?”

“Okay….” I say nervously.

“I knew I wanted to be with you forever right from the start. That’s why I told you the ladybug myth. I wanted you to want me, too. And when you did, it scared the ever-lovin’ shit out of me.” He kisses me again. “Now that I know you’re not going to abandon me like everyone else, I’m not scared anymore.”

Chapter Sixty-Four

I like to watch Piper when she’s completely unaware. Like now, when she’s sleeping next to me, dwarfed under the beige comforter with just her head poking out with her blond hair loose and messy on the pillow. I stare at all the parts of her that captivate me. Her lashes—like tiny feathers resting on her cheeks. Her lips—the color of bubblegum. Her fingers—curled up in a fist under her chin like babies do. I was relieved to see the engagement ring still on her hand when she came into the room.