Page 72 of Sweet Girl
We laugh and talk more about the possibilities of what living together might look like. After another thirty minutes, I can tell he’s exhausted from the travel and the game, so we say our good-nights, which tack on another five minutes to our phone time because it’s so darn hard hanging up from that beautiful face.
Just before we hang up, he knocks me off my feet and reconfirms what I mean to him.
“Kylah,” he murmurs, laying back against a huge stack of pillows behind his head.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Jaw, meet floor.
You know that feeling you get when you’re at the top of the rollercoaster, after you’ve just climbed the long hill, hearing the clickety-clack of the tracks underneath you and the swarm of noise surrounding you? When you just hurdle over the otherwise, plummeting down in a blaze of glory?
Yeah, that’s how those three words feel to me.
Exhilarating. Momentous. Life-changing.
“I love you, too, Van. Good-night.”
Needless to say, I won’t sleep a wink tonight.
