The Ghost (Professionals Book 2)(93)

By: Jessica Gadziala

“Come on, if there is anyone he is safe with, it’s Ranger. For a multitude of reasons. And then we can go up to the city and have a fuckfest without worrying about someone happening in.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” I said, smiling.

We didn’t do it often, weekends away. Maybe once every six months or so. We had worked out a system with the rest of his coworkers - who were really like family - as well as Auddie. Someone would always be happy to take the others’ kids with the agreement that when they wanted to go away, you would take theirs. It gave us all the chance to not just be parents, but to be human beings, and husbands and wives again. It was a nice break. And when you got back, you were refreshed, excited to slip back into mom or dad-mode.

“Ten years,” he said, something like wonder in his tone.

I thought that too every once and a while.

Ten years.

You could explain it so many different ways.

Ten Christmases.

Ten anniversaries.

Ten books, in my case.

Ten different lines of handbags and diaper bags.

But ten years.

With this man.

This man who, had life not tossed him in my path, I never would have given a second thought to, I never would have gotten to know, fallen in love with, made a life with, raised a child with.

It was amazing how much could change, how much impact a person could have in your life. Sometimes in big ways, but also sometimes in a million small ways.

With Gunner, I had both.

He came in like a battering ram, knocking me off my usually very firm footing.

And then every single day, he changed something. He helped me see something in a new light. He taught me things. He shared things with me. He pushed me out of my comfort zone, so I could experience something new.

It was a strange thing to think of my life before.

How empty it had been.

Full of pride, sure, but that was it.

No joy.

Not like now.

I found a reason to smile every single day.

At Nico.

At Gunner.

At the two of them together.

There was so much joy that I felt like I was going to burst at times, sure I wasn’t built in a way that could hold it all. But I did. Just when I thought it was full, my heart would simply swell to make room for more of it.

All because of this man.

“And you’re still a fucking freak about the dining table,” he finished.

And there it was.

A little more joy.

A little more swelling to accommodate it.

Ten years.

And a lifetime still to go.

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