Page 152 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

The curtains are half drawn.

Through the glass, I see her.

Curled on her side.

One hand tucked beneath her cheek.

Hair spilled across the pillow like dark silk.

Immediately, I think of pirate ships with billowing sails, raging seas, and calm nights—and I can see the scene carved out in wood and leather.

This woman? She’s my muse.

My inspiration.

My everything, If I’m being honest.

My heart stutters so hard it almost hurts.

Life doesn’t come with guarantees.

I know that better than most.

But if there’s one thing I’m suddenly certain of, it’s this—whatever life I build from here on out?

It won’t be one I want without her in it.

Last night was too close.

Seeing that prick ex of hers put his hands on her.

Seeing her look at me like I might not trust her.

No more of that.

I gave her all the time I could, cause now I’m done waiting.

She might not need a man telling her where she belongs.

And I’m not here to cage her.

But I am here to tell her that I choose her—for good this time.

That I belong with her. To her.

And no, it’s not all about possession.

It’s alignment.

It feels a lot like fact.

Surer than science.

Stronger than faith.

I lift the window carefully, easing the screen aside. I make a mental note to add better security—then shake it off, because right now I’m grateful I can slip inside unnoticed.

I set the food on the dresser quietly.