“Why do you love me?” she asks, adjusting her pillows for the fourth time in a minute.
“Well that’s not fair. I’ve been awake for hours, and now your coffee finally kicks in as I am getting tired again?”
She punctuates a shrug with a smile.
“Why do I love you?” he asks, pulling the covers up to his chin.
He runs an overmatched hand through haphazard hair.
“There was the day, I don’t know, four or five months ago? You showed me dozens and dozens of photos from your life. From when you were a baby up until now. SO cute, by the way. I could just see how badly you wanted me to know you. And wanted me to want to know you.”
“I liked that.”
“And then there was the time when I got some very scary family health news. You were so amazing. You made that charming and perfect video for me? I could feel how much you wanted to take away my pain and worry. How you would have done anything to make my day better. It was in your eyes. Your voice.”
“I just… I just wanted you to know I was there for you.”
“And it amazes me that, well, when things get rough, you know how you kind of shut down? I mean, usually?”
She nods, hoping not as slowly and sadly as she fears.
“It amazes me that you’ll try with me. You’ll try to explain it. Even if it is not what you want to do.”
“You’re important…” her voice trails off.
“I appreciate it,” he kisses her on the forehead.
“And when you smile at me… God, when you smile at me…” he gently takes her soft, pink bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I feel it. All of it. It overwhelms me. I feel unworthy, but so very lucky. I mean, I feel like I deserve someone awesome.”
A laugh sneaks out of her.
“But not someone as awesome as you,” he continues, looking away. “You’re kind and sweet and brilliant and fun and funny and so fucking gorgeous that it borders on being unfair.”
“Babe…” she says, her warm, dark eyes growing bigger.
“Why do I love you? You didn’t leave me any choice.”