Valentine's Day

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Valentine Day gifts are a pleasant surprise, unless they're not from the person you expect...
This story was contributed by Lauren Jackson 

It's Valentine's Day.

The day where people take a moment in their busy lives to stop and appreciate their significant other. To tell them that they love them. To take a second to do something nice.

Sure, a lot of the time it's, "Oh crap, is it Valentine's Day?" or "He didn't even bother to get me flowers!" but no, not for me. I'm one of the lucky ones.

Considering my upbringing and dreadful past of toxic relationships, it still blows my mind that I've ended up with someone almost too perfect to exist. Someone who loves me, unconditionally. Someone who would do anything for me. Someone I can spend every waking moment with and not get sick of. I am truly one of the lucky ones.

Bouncing from foster home to foster home as a kid – I let myself get trapped in relationships that were ugly and unhealthy. Like my last one. I barely got out of that alive.

And then I met him.

William, 'Will', Johnson. The man of my dreams.

I delicately run my finger across the vivid red rose petal which sits on my desk. Valentine's Day with Will is always magical. He does something different every year, but somehow makes it better each time.

My eyes flutter closed as I recall this morning.

"Good morning," Will breathes into my ear, his breath warm and comforting against my skin. His hand strokes my bare side, feeling possessive in the best kind of way. Gentle, reassuring but somehow dominant at the same time.

"Hi," I smile.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he whispers, leaving a trail of hot kisses from the corner of my lip, my chin, across my jaw bone and down my neck. The kiss deepens, nipping at my skin between his teeth. The feeling of them makes me feel breathless and light.

"Will," I let out a slight moan.

"Say it again," he grins.

"Will," I sigh, clamping my lower lip.

"Another Valentine's Special from Doctor Johnson?" Our receptionist, Louise, smiles at me as she pokes her head into my office, her eyes flicking over the petals that are littered across my desk, floor and window panes, causing my adoring memory to come to a saddening, abrupt halt.

I smile in response. "Sure is."

"Does he have any brothers?" she jokes. "Or single friends?"

"Only sisters, I'm afraid."

"I could make that work," she nods thoughtfully.

I smile at her. "I'll keep an eye on the friends, in case the sister match-up doesn't go to plan."

"You're too good to me," she teases before drifting from my door.

I go back to gazing around my office, drinking in the beautiful image before me. I wish my office looked this beautiful every day.

My phone vibrates, drawing me from my thoughts.

Him: What do you think of my redecorating?

I grin down at my phone and count how many rose emojis he placed beside it.

Me: Wonderful. You could make this your career.

Him: I'll let them know now my days of cardiovascular surgery are behind me.

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