The world, dark and cold, was shaking and I lost my footing, falling down an endless hole. My lungs drowned in salty seawater, and I could feel my arms flailing around as I tried to breathe.
Two seconds later, I realized that I was only tasting my own tears that had fallen from my eyes.
I woke up on my bed, alone and freezing, having accidentally kicked off the blanket to the floor during the nightmare. I lay there, staring up at my ceiling, waiting until my vision cleared. What I'd seen in the nightmare was still there in the back of my mind, and with each passing second, I tried to will them away.
Years have gone, but every once in a while, these nightmares would visit me, as if I wasn't allowed to let go of what had happened in the past. Thankfully, it wasn't so frequent, but it was always bad when it happened.
Outside, thunderstorm raged on, each lightning strike causing an earthquake.
Or maybe it was just me.
The house was too quiet, and my forehead scrunched in worry. The bed wasn't supposed to be empty, but it was, so I got out of it, slipping into my sleeping robe as I walked out of the bedroom.
Slowly, I could hear voices coming from the room at the end of the hallway. The door was slightly open, and there was light creeping from the small gap. I let a smile appear on my face as I walked closer, and I stopped right at the door to listen to those voices.
I was feeling better already.
"And then, what happened to the princess?" a small voice asked, quietly, as if she was scared to hear the answer.
I only smiled wider when a voice answered, "She got bitten by the ghosts." At the loud gasps of surprise, he shushed them gently. "Don't be too loud. Mommy is still asleep."
Matching sheepish apologies, both trying to be as quiet as posisble. "Sorry, Daddy."
"It's okay. Do you want to know what happens next?" I didn't hear their answer, but I could imagine their little heads nodding. "Well, there came this handsome prince, saving her before it was too late. He took her away from the ghosts, and they ran away—"
"Did he come with his white horse?" a voice cut in.
"Sure he did," he answered. "He took her to his castle, brought her flowers—"
"Roses?"
"Nah, she doesn't like roses." I smiled. "He gave her daisies instead."
"That's my name!" a voice shrieked in excitement, the other shushed her. She then whispered, "Sorry."
"What about the ending? Is that the ending?"
"Of course not. There's no ending for them," he told them. "She became his princess, and he became her prince. They lived in the castle for a long, long time, growing a bunch beautiful flowers together in the garden. But that wasn't the end."
"So, like, their story went on and on and on?"
"Yes, exactly. Their story never ended. It's everlasting."
They sighed contently. "That's a really good story, Daddy," one of the little voices said. "Tell me more."
I poked my head into the room, and three heads looked up in surprise. The smile on my face widened as I took in the sight before me, but I said, "That's enough for tonight. You need to sleep."
"But mommy," the littlest one whined, moving her head and making her little blonde curls bounce. "I wanna hear more stories!"
"Daddy can tell more stories tomorrow," I said, kissing her on the forehead. She only snuggled deeper into her dad's chest and pouted. "Why are you two awake anyway, hm?"
"There was a really really really loud thunder. Daisy was scared and she woke me up. I woke daddy up because she wouldn't stop crying."
"Okay, your mommy was right. Let's get you back to sleep—"
Daisy wouldn't let go of her daddy's shirt, and she only clutched tighter. "I don't wanna!"
"Daisy, it's not even raining anymore! You shouldn't be scared. You can sleep in my bed so you won't be scared."
It took a while to get them back to bed, especially after the small bickering that wouldn't stop. But eventually, they gave in to their sleepiness and willingly lay down on the bed, somehow snuggled into one twin-sized bed—Daisy's—but I had to sing them a lullaby until they finally fell sound asleep.
I kissed them, my heart growing each time they mumbled to me in their sleep. But when I turned around, I was the one receiving a kiss on my own forehead, and I smiled.
"Why are you awake?" he whispered. "Did we wake you up?"
I took his hand and slowly led him out of the door, closing it quietly. "No," I said as we walked downstairs. "I just had a nightmare."
His eyes were surprised, concerned. He looked at me closely and probably realized how shaken I looked. "Was it bad? You haven't had those in months."
"Pretty bad," I admitted. "But it's okay."
I sat on the kitchen stool, but he went to brew me a cup of tea instead. He muttered, "You always say that."
I laid my folded arms on the counter and rested my chin on top. The thunders outside were dying down, and the house was quiet again. Once he was done, he slid the warm cup silently and sat down on the stool next to me, turning it around so he could face me.
"Thank you, Jonah," I murmured gratefully before taking a sip and letting the warmth slid down my throat. His arms reached out and he brushed my hair behind my ear, his thumb rubbing my cheek as he did so. He looked at me for a long time, without a word, and I shook my head with a small laugh. "What?"
Jonah smiled. "Nothing." He shook his head and brushed his thumb against my skin one more time before pulling his hand away. "How long were you standing behind the door?"
"Long enough to witness yet another ridiculous fairytale story of yours," I teased. "I mean, really? Since when did ghosts bite humans? They're ghosts!"
He rolled his eyes and took the cup from my hand, taking a sip of his own. "The kids love it."
"I know. You're a good storyteller." I stole the cup back from him and gulped down the rest of the tea. "You should've woken me up, too," I said. "How scared was she?"
"She was crying so loud, I'm surprised you didn't wake up because of her." He slightly tilted his head to the side. "Reminds me of Daisy the doll..."
I laughed. "Oh, the good old times."
It was surprising, but none of our children—Lucy and Daisy—cried as hard as that stupid doll when they were a baby. Of course there were nights when they wouldn't stop crying and Jonah and I couldn't get a blink of sleep—but nowhere as bad as the creepy doll we took care of in high school.
Of course, I still owed the stupid doll so much. Without it, I wouldn't be here right now, snuggled against the love of my life while watching our children sleep.
"Hey, I love you," he said randomly, and I laughed. That was what he always did—express his love for me whenever he could. And I never told him that I loved it when he did that. It always made me fall in love all over again with him, as if it was just yesterday that I saw his face for the first time.
I kissed him to tell him that I loved him too, because he was always better with words and me not with words.
"It's your birthday tomorrow," I hummed into his lips.
"I'm aware," he murmured back.
"I didn't prepare a present for you," I admitted. "I forgot."
He tsked. "Bad wife."
I grinned when his fingers reached out to my waist. "Stop tickling me."
How was it possible that after seven years of being married to this man, and after everything that we've been through together, his kisses still felt like the first time?
When his hand slowly slid down, I blushed and slapped it away.
He laughed. "Why are you blushing?"
"I'm not," I lied. "It's just hot in here."
"Mm-hm," he hummed skeptically. "Come on, let's go back to bed."
I rolled my eyes, but complied when he took my hand and slipped each one of his fingers in-between mine. We stopped at the girls' bedroom to check up on them, snuggled up into one another, far away in the dreamland.
"Jonah," I said softly. "Did it ever cross your mind, all the way back when we were young, that I would be standing here next to you?"
"No," he replied just as quietly. "This was far beyond my dreams." His head turned a little so he could look at me. "You're far beyond my dreams."
I wanted to tell him to stop making me fall in love like a schoolgirl every day, but then I realized that I didn't mind at all. So I said, "And you beyond mine."
"But somehow we're here." He shrugged a little, with a smile. "So it's good, right?"
I wrapped an arm around the back of his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him. It was good, it was great, it was grand, it was wonderfully, incredibly, blissfully perfect.
He smiled wider and said, "I love you too."
A sound of a small thud broke our short kisses and we turned, only to find Daisy rubbing her butt on the floor, cringing. Jonah pulled away from me and crouched down in front of her.
"Lucy kicked me off the bed," she whined quietly, knowing not to wake up her sister. "I don't wanna sleep with her anymore."
"Alright, baby." With a soft chuckle, my husband swept her off the floor and put her down on her own unoccupied bed, pulling a blanket over the tiny body before running a gentle hand down her hair. He spoke to her quietly, and our little girl nodded with a sleepy smile before looking over Jonah's shoulder to look at me.
"Night, Mama," she whispered loud enough for me to hear, and I smiled.
"Night, baby," I whispered back.
Once we were sure that he was back asleep, we got out of the room quietly, but Jonah stopped me right in the middle of the hallway to pin me against the wall, and I sighed playfully.
"What is it, Jonah?"
"Are you going to prepare a birthday present for me at all?"
I thought for a while and shook my head. "Probably not," I answered honestly. It was weird, but he never really minded. He once said to me, his birthdays had stopped becoming something to celebrate, since he celebrated life waking up next to me every day anyway. "Why?"
"Good."
"Why is it good?" I asked in confusion.
"You know, there are a lot of other things you can give me for my birthday..." he drawled out slowly. I saw where he was going and rolled my eyes, trying to push myself off the wall, but he wouldn't let me. "What about baby number three?"
My glare was all I needed to answer him.
"Well, I can dream," he joked.
I put a hand behind his neck and tickled him to break free. Like I'd predicted, he started to giggle—or what he would prefer to call "manly-giggled"—and so I slipped out under his arm. "Besides, do you really want another one? The girls are already too much to handle!"
"You know what they say: the more the merrier..." he tried again, wrapping his arms around my waist and hugging me from behind. His chin was on my shoulder, his face in my hair, his voice in my ear. He was only joking about another baby and I knew that. We joked about third, fourth, fifth, sixth babies way too many times.
"We can adopt a cat," I suggested. Grace, the cat that he had since he was in middle school, died a few years ago and my brother Cole took her son Ant to live with him and his girlfriend. Since then, I hadn't gotten another cat, but now I was seriously considering adopting one.
"A cat?" he protested with a small groan. "I want a baby, not a cat."
I rolled my eyes. "You just want the baby-making, not the baby."
"That," he pointed a finger at my face as if he was about to argue, but then he said, "is completely right." He gave me a long kiss, then he leaned down to whisper something into my ear and I giggled, my cheeks warming as I hit him playfully on his chest.
He opened the door to our bedroom and took my hand in his, and then we lay on our bed, my head on his chest and his arms around me, our hearts as one and our future so bright before our eyes, and as my eyelids slowly drooped, the only sound I could hear was his voice telling me a story about the princess and the prince with the daisies...
A hundred chapters could go on and the story would never end, but really, the best stories never end.
And this was ours.
note: congrats for making it here! if you see any inconsistencies regarding character names or other small details, worry not! i'm going through editing right now. it's about damn time, but oh well. thank you for sticking with me and this story! ( — 2022)
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