She releases my finger and smiles. “Maybe later,” she says coyly. “Right now, I want to enjoy the sunshine and these tacos.” Her expression becomes shy, and her cheeks turn a gorgeous shade of pink. “And you.”

I kiss her then, because how couldn’t I? It occurs to me as my tongue dances with hers that I could kiss her every single day for the rest of my life, and it wouldn’t be enough.

She pulls away, smiling, her joy spelled out across her face. I grin back as I grab my own taco and start eating.

We chat and watch people play catch while we eat. She doesn’t make a big deal about it, but I notice she leaves the shrimp and carne asada ones for me. When we’ve both eaten our fill, I throw the empty containers into a nearby garbage can and pull her book out of my bag. She squeals in delight, and we both lie on the blanket. She curls up against my side, her head on my chest.

I’ve had several relationships, though none of them got very serious. I should be wary of such strong feelings for her so soon, but for some reason, I’m not. If someone were to tell me right now that I wouldn’t be spending the rest of my life with this woman, I’d tell them to check again. It’s simply unimaginable.

Once, before he died, I asked my dad how he knew my mom was the person he’d spend his life with.

“How do you know I love you?” he said.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“It’s simple. How do you know I love you?”

“I just do,” I said, feeling like I was missing the point.

He nodded sagely, as if I had gotten it right. “I just knew I loved her, too.”

That was that. I thought I understood at the time, at least as well as a ten-year-old boy could. But now, as Scarlett turns a page and shimmies a bit to get more comfortable, I realize that I didn’t understand at all. Because if anyone were to ask me how I feel about her, I’d probably tell them she’s it for me. And if they asked me how I knew, I could point to the weightlessness of her head on my chest, the effervescence of her laughter, the brilliance of her mind. But all of those things pale in comparison to the truth.

How do I know? I just do.

Chapter 15

Scarlett