Page 147 of Mended Hearts

Those were the only days I remember her being truly happy.

Leighton’s eyes softened like the memories tucked into her own chest were folding open. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“I think the magic lives inyou, Trouble.”

I lifted her camera and stretched my arm out, tilting it up to catch the sky and the grove behind us—and caught her with a kiss.

If she ever glued anything into a scrapbook we’d want to remember forever, I hoped it was this.

When we pulled apart, she swayed her hips, biting her bottom lip before a wide grin broke free like she’d lost the battle to contain it.

I wanted all of her smiles.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I nodded and slipped her camera into the side pocket of her bag, tucking the two Polaroids in beside it before lacing my fingers through hers.

We wandered the grove together in silence, the hush broken only by the occasional gasp from another visitor.

After a few minutes, Leighton’s voice soft, she asked, “What are you hoping for?”

I turned toward her. “Today?”

“For the baby,” she clarified, her eyes trained on the trees. “Boy or girl?”

“Oh.” I smirked. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Well, apparently not, because I’m asking.”

I laughed. “A girl. Just like her mama.”

She tried—and failed—to hide her smile.

“And if it’s a boy?”

“Then he’ll love his mama just as much as Beau does.”

Because that boy of mine… he was a goner. Leighton held his little heart in her hand. Just like she held mine.

We slowed as a kaleidoscope of monarchs drifted down around us, spiraling in slow, mesmerizing arcs. One landed on her shoulder. She froze. Another touched down on her head.

Then another.

And another.

Leighton’s breath caught, her lips parted in silent awe. She didn’t move, like her body didn’t know what to do with that much joy all at once. And I—God, I just stood there and watched. Watched the woman I loved be cloaked in living magic.

My mom once said butterflies were hellos from beyond. From the people we’d lost.

I couldn’t help but wonder if she was somewhere in this silent parade, fluttering down to say hello to the woman I was determined to make my wife.

“I told you,” I murmured, barely above a whisper as I stepped closer. “You’re magic.”

22

It’s Not a Party Until Someone Gets Evicted

LEIGHTON

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