Page 146 of Her Ex-Husband's Brother

The change is small, but I feel the weight of it.

“I’m still a little weird about labels,” she says.

“Oh, yeah. Of course,” I jump in too quickly. “We can take this as slowly as you need. I’m not asking you to define anything. I know you’ve just escaped a hell marriage, and the last thing I want is for you to feel like you’ve stepped directly into another?—”

“I love you.”

I stop.

The entire room seems to tilt.

A kitten launches itself off the scratching post behind her. Somewhere in the hallway, a dog barks. The volunteer hasdiscreetly moved to the other side of the room and become extremely interested in organizing a basket of toys.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you,” Lennon says.

“You—”

My throat closes.

“Love you,” she repeats.

Her grin grows, but tears shine in her eyes.

I stare at her because I know I’m meant to say something, but for once, there are too many words inside me.

No one has ever loved me… likethis. There have always been conditions attached.

Lennon knows everything ugly and damaged and inconvenient about me.

She knows about my ups, and my downs.

She knows there will be days when I struggle to get out of bed and days when sleep seems like an irritating obstacle between me and the hundred things I need to do.

She knows.

And she loves me.

“I love you too,” I blurt.

Her face crumples with happiness.

“A lot,” I add, because apparently I’m twelve years old. “A lot, a lot.”

She giggles, high and bright.

The sound fills the little room.

Kittens crawl over her legs and tumble across the blanket. The marshmallow kitten attempts to climb into her lap again, while his sister attacks the hem of my jeans.

Lennon presses her forehead to mine.

“You’re very eloquent.”

“Shut up.”

“I love you a lot, a lot too.”

I kiss her.