“Wouldn’t it be perfect,” she said, her voice dreamy, “if every morning began like this? Just waking up to sunshine and you?”
Andrew chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. “Every morning as you open your eyes, you will find me right beside you. That is my promise.”
She smiled, her eyes closed. “What about afternoons?”
“Hmm,” he mused, “probably spent chasing squirrels in the park, arguing over who makes the better picnic sandwich, and napping under the big oak tree.”
She giggled, turning to face him. “Evenings, Andrew?”
Andrew cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve. “Front row seats to every sunset as the sky turns red and orange.”
A tear trickled down her cheek, catching the sunlight like a tiny diamond. “And nights?”
He closed his eyes, a playful smile forming. “Stargazing under the Milky Way, just the way you like it, making up constellations until sleep steals us away.”
Her voice turned sharp and cold as winter wind. “No, Andrew, your nights will be filled with pain and suffering.”