Written With Hearts

Written With Hearts - Chapter Thirty Two

Abby....

Have you ever had that spine-tingling moment, when you just know that everything is going to be okay? That defining kind of a moment when everything just suddenly fits into place . . . a perfect and wonderful place.

I'm in that place.

I'm living that moment.

Propped up in my warm and comfy bed, I look across to Yate; who is propped up against the soft pillows, peacefully watching television. Snuggled between us is a heavy-eyed Lily, desperately fighting her sleepiness. I anchor myself to this feeling; never before have I felt this way, more content and at one with my life. I can feel my own smile just sitting here contentedly on my lips, reluctant to leave my happy mouth. Blissfully sighing, I slowly turn my head and start watching the telly.

Yate stretches his brawny arm across the pillows, so he's able to stroke my shoulder. Responding to his loving touch, I rest my cheek against the back of his hand; enjoying the sensation that it brings. Turning my head, I notice the textual tattoo on his firm inner bicep. I've seen it before, but I'm much more intrigued by it this evening. With loving interest, I carefully study the beautifully inked words that permanently grace his skin. "What does your tattoo mean?" I quietly ask turning slightly, so I'm able to look at Yate in a more comfy position.

A little smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he stares across at it. "It's Latin for, Nothing is truer than the heart of a father." He lovingly looks down at Lily as he says it.

Brushing my cheek against his knuckle, I smile at his heart-melting answer. "That's beautiful, Lily is a lucky little girl to have a father who adores her as much as you," I tell him, with a tiny part of me saddened to think that my own father never cherished me in the same way.

Yate senses my sadness, caressing my hair, his voice is gently positive. "I'm sure your father loved you in his own way, he probably just didn't know how to show you that love." His fingers move from my hair, down to across my cheek and jawline, with eyes so very full of affection.

I smile, accompanied with a small and resigned sigh. "Maybe," I answer with dormant unease, trying not to sound overly negative. Tonight feels perfect to me. I don't want our perfect to be taken away from us because of sombre thoughts of my father.

Yate turns on his side, wanting to be closer to me, without squashing a now sleeping Lily. Lightly stroking my arm, our eyes deeply engage before he softly speaks. "I promise to love you in the way that you deserve to be loved, Abby." His gaze is as steady as his lower-pitched voice. He presses his lips together, looking determined. "I love you, Abby Blair. I think we've wasted enough time. I hate being without you, and I don't intend on being without you ever again. I want you to come and live with me. I want us to be properly together." His idea hangs in the air above us.

I'm smiling, scared yet ecstatic. "Really? You want us to live together?" I ask, with a mouthful of euphoric grin.

Yate's smile can't be contained either. He leans carefully over Lily; holding my chin in his one hand. "I'd love nothing more," he answers with a genuine, lopsided smirk, looking earth-shatteringly gorgeous and half naked, in my bed.

That grin of his is enough to convince any red-blooded female, yet my elation soon has doubts trying to creep their way in. "What about this place?" I ask, frowning unattractively hard.

Yate confidently smiles, like he had his answer already prepared for me. "You can rent this place out, but you and Pusskins are coming to live with me," he says, leaving no room for negotiation in the excited air.

My eyes dart to a softly breathing Lily, wondering how she would feel about me moving in with her daddy. "What about Lily?" I ask with apprehension, shifting uncomfortably in my bed.