“I can’t believe I married someone who likes mint chocolate chip,” I said as Alessandra hoovered down a bowl of her favorite ice cream. “You know you’re basically eating toothpaste, right?”
“Delicious toothpaste.” Her mischievous smile hit me right in the gut. We’d been married exactly one week, two days, and twelve hours, and I still couldn’t believe she was mine. “You knew about my taste in dessert before our wedding, so you can’t complain now. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me and my mint chocolate forever.”
Forever.
The concept seemed laughable a year ago. Nothing lasted
forever. People, places, relationships…everything had an expiration date.
But for the first time in my life, I allowed myself to believe someone when they said they would stay.
My hand found hers and laced our fingers together. “Promise?”
Her face softened. We were technically supposed to be watching the latest action blockbuster, but the explosions were mere background noise at this point. “I promise.”
Mano, isto tá me a deixar bué mal