A Hundred Ways to Love
Page 17
Mimi’s love is what makes her special. She has more to give than anyone I’ve ever met, and she shares it willingly. She’s a gift, not only to me, but also to everyone in this community. She doesn’t even realize it, which is why throwing her this party was so important to me.
I could never pay her back for loving me unconditionally when no one else did. I don’t think I could’ve made it without her. I consider myself a strong person, but even the strongest need at least one person who loves them, unconditionally. What I wasn’t given from my parents, I was blessed with from Mimi—tenfold.
I wrap my arms around Liam’s waist, unable to wipe the wide smile off of my face as I watch Mimi talking to everyone.
“Thank you for helping me organize this,” I tell Liam, who was a lifesaver in the planning of this party.
Like Mimi, he knows and is liked by everyone and is the reason that so many people showed up. He loves my grandma so much that he bought her farm for more than it was worth and insisted that she live there, which says as much about Liam as it does Mimi.
I’m so beyond blessed to be loved by Liam and Mimi that I have a hard time grasping just how fortunate I am.
Liam kisses the top of my head, his arm hugging me close to him. “Of course. Anytime.”
We walk toward the large buffet.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Starving,” I reply.
“We need to make sure to steal your grandma away from her admirers in a few, so she can eat as well,” he tells me as he scoops a big pile of mac and cheese onto his plate.
“Very true,” I agree.
Mimi’s gaze finds me from across the room, and the smile on her face is priceless. She shoots me a wink before reaching her arms out to hold another baby.
There was a while there when I was so miserable and nothing like Mimi. I was bitter, cruel, and pretty heartless, if I’m being honest. Yet Mimi loved me despite my shortcomings. I just hope, someday, that I can be half the person she is. She’s taught me so much in my life, but I think the greatest lesson that I’ve learned from her is how to love.
“What a night.” I lean against Liam’s chest as we lie in his bed.
Everything about Mimi’s party was perfect. She was so joyous and grateful. Most importantly, she felt loved, and that was the ultimate goal.
“It was. You did a great job.” He lightly strokes his fingers up and down my back.
“We did a great job. You did at least half of the work.” I chuckle.
“Are you happy?” he whispers, his voice slow as sleep starts to pull him in.
“The happiest.”
“That’s all that matters to me, Len,” Liam says before his breathing slows, and his chest begins to rise and fall in slumber. He’s finally given in to the much-needed rest he needs after the long workday that started before the sun came up this morning.
Most days, Liam falls asleep before I do, but usually, he works a hell of a lot harder than I do as well. It’s something that I cherish though—this time of night. I love listening to the sounds of his sleep, his arm still around me, my skin still warm from his lips.
In these quiet moments each night, I reflect, giving gratitude to all the moments throughout the day that almost brought me to my knees with happiness. Lately, there’ve been a lot of them. More than anything, I’m thankful for Liam.
Growing up, I always feared that love would change me, turn me into someone I didn’t want to be. There’re many versions of love, and Liam has done nothing but love me in the way that makes me better. True love isn’t selfish, belittling, or cruel; it’s the opposite. It’s all the ways in which Liam loves me.
Love is wanting someone to be happy and accepting them for who they are. It’s not trying to force them into a mold that was never meant to hold them. Love is supporting their dreams, not telling them the ones they should have. Love is bringing them lunch when they’re busy working. It’s driving their grandma into town. It’s holding their hand on long walks and kissing their lips as if they are your lifeline. It’s bandaging their cuts and preventing new ones.
Liam loves me in a hundred different ways every single day, and all of them are just what I need to feel it.
I happened to find my soul mate when I was six, and I think a part of me always knew it. I just had to get to this point in my life to realize it.
As sleep pulls me under, I don’t even wish for dreams because I live one every day with Liam by my side.
epilogue
Leni
One Year Later
I tightly wrap my arms around Liam’s waist as we ride his black stallion, Jet, through the pasture. Resting my cheek against Liam’s back, I gaze out toward the horizon where the oranges, purples, and pinks of the sunset are fading into each other like a beautiful watercolor painting.
This is my favorite part of the day on the ranch. After a day of hard work, the sky shines with serene beauty as the land falls to slumber. Our ride is always accompanied by the calming song of the birds singing and the crickets chirping and the warm winds of dusk.
It’s magical.
Or maybe this is just what true happiness feels like. Perhaps everyone who’s found their way on this journey we call life feels the same way as I do right now. I don’t know though. Sometimes, I think that no one on earth could possibly be as happy as I am.
We put Jet away in the barn and walk hand in hand toward Mimi’s house. We’re greeted with strawberry rhubarb pie and vanilla ice cream.
“This is heaven, Mimi, per usual.”
“So good,” Liam chimes in through a mouthful of pie.
I can’t help but laugh.
“What room are you all working on now?” Mimi asks in reference to the house that Liam’s having built for us.
He’s been involved in every aspect of the design, making sure his friend Pete creates the perfect floor plan.
“Leni’s studio,” Liam says proudly.
“Oh my gosh. It’s amazing. It spans across the entire end of the second floor, and the walls are nothing but windows. So, I’m going to get the best light all day long. It’s so great.”
“That’s wonderful. You need a good space to create. How many shows do you have lined up?” Mimi asks.
“So far, about ten over the next year.”
I can’t believe how well my art has been received. I can get into any art studio I want in Texas, and all the decent-sized cities have some incredible studios. My Texas-themed canvases are huge sellers. The great thing is, I only have to step outside my house, and there is inspiration everywhere. I feel like I’m exactly where I was always meant to be.
I get to spend my days with Liam and Mimi. I can help Liam on the ranch anytime I want, which is more often than I would’ve thought because the truth is that I miss him throughout the day. I can paint and create whenever I want as well, and I’m actually making really good money, selling my work.
Liam’s parents spend quite a bit of time with us at Mimi’s house, and I know Mimi’s heart is full with joy. I’m happy I’m here. I’m so glad she’s not alone. She actually has a large, extended family now, one that loves her.
I haven’t spoken to my parents since walking out of my dad’s hospital room over a year ago, and I’m actually okay with it. Now that I’m an adult, I get to choose my family, and I’ve chosen a pretty incredible one. I have no complaints. I’ve finally realized that I can’t change them, but I can stop allowing them to affect the way I feel.
Forgiveness.
We help Mimi finish cleaning the kitchen before we say good night.
Stepping out onto the back porch, Liam threads his fingers through mine. “You ready, wife?”
“Ready, husband,” I say with a snicker, still giddy over the fact that I’m now Mrs. Moore.
Liam and I got married a month ago at dusk below a candlelit archway in the field where we’d first met so many years ago. Only Mimi and his family were in attendance, and it was perfect. He’d offered me a grand wedding, but
I had no interest in it. I’ve learned life lessons at warp speed during the time I’ve spent here since returning from New York. I no longer crave the acceptance of a couple of hundred people oohing and aahing over me in my wedding gown. That sort of affirmation from others isn’t required anymore. I only desire it from one person, and he already thinks I’m the most beautiful woman in the world—even with bedhead and morning breath.
We walk the path from Mimi’s house to our dream home. It isn’t complete yet. It’s still very much a construction zone, but it has the basics to live in, and it’s ours. Liam stops on our front porch and swoops me up in his arms, causing me to laugh.
“You don’t have to keep doing this!” I exclaim. “You’ve carried me over the threshold for a month now. I think we’ve made our point.”
He doesn’t listen as he walks me through the front door and sets me down. He takes my face in his hands and leans down until he’s just a breath away. “I love it,” he whispers, his voice husky and deep. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
“Well, you’d better start believing it because I’m not going anywhere.” I stare into his deep brown eyes, so full of love.
He kisses me, and it makes me feel amazing, like it does each and every time. I pray I never tire of kissing Liam. I don’t know how I could. We’re going to be those eighty-year-old grandparents who can’t keep their hands off of each other.
He pulls his lips away. “Bath?”
“Yeah.” I nod.
The kitchen, master bedroom, and bathroom are the only completely finished rooms in the house so far. But, honestly, that’s all we need. We don’t really use the kitchen since we eat with Mimi, so actually, we have more rooms than we require.
Liam runs the water in our huge claw-foot tub, adding in some lavender salts. We went all out on our master bedroom and bathroom. They could be straight from a magazine; they’re absolutely stunning.
I remove my jeans, dropping them onto the tiles.
“Let me help you, Mrs. Moore.”
Liam steps behind me and pulls up my T-shirt. I raise my arms as he removes it. He pulls down one of my bra straps and kisses my shoulder where the strap just was before repeating the motion on the other side. He sweeps my hair over one shoulder, and his soft lips trail across the back of my neck as his fingers lightly caress my arms.
I sigh in contentment.
He kisses down my back until he reaches my panties. He pulls down on them, and as they fall to the floor, he playfully bites my ass, causing me to jump.
“Hey,” I say with a chuckle before stepping into the hot water.
Liam gets in behind me, and I lean back against his chest. I run the soapy sponge up and down our arms as we talk about our day. Liam and I never run out of things to talk about. He truly is my best friend.
“Are you and your dad running to Austin tomorrow?” I ask as I turn around to face him, straddling his lap.
“Yeah. Do you want to come?” His soapy hands find my breasts.
I close my eyes as his fingers focus on my nipples.
“Uh, no …” My breaths come out harder. “I’m going to … finish … a few pieces …”
He starts to rock against me, his hard desire hitting me right where I want it.
“For the show … next week.”
Liam moves one of his hands down under the water until he finds me. I drop my forehead against his chest, panting, as he pleasures me below the warm water.
“Oh …” I moan.
“Does that feel good, baby?” Liam asks, his voice needy against my neck.
“Oh God … yes.” I rock harder against his hand. “I want …”
“What do you want, Leni?” His fingers pick up their pace.
“I want …” I moan.
“What, baby?” his hot breath whispers into my ear. He bites softly on my earlobe.
“You,” I cry. “I want you, Liam.”
He slides his hard length into me, and I plunge my body down onto it. Our mouths find each other, and we exchange sounds of ecstasy through our kisses. Liam wraps his arms around my back and holds me against him as our bodies move faster, both desperate to find our release.
Water splashes. Moans echo. Skin slaps.
Every time with Liam is the best time. Each time we come together, it’s mind-blowingly good. Our minds, bodies, and souls were destined for one another.
After our bath, our bare bodies lie in our bed, snuggled up together under the blankets. We’ve yet to get the house wired for TV, so our evenings are spent talking and making love. I have zero complaints.
Liam holds me in his arms as the side of my face rests against his chest. I can hear his heartbeats, and I’m grateful for each one.
“I love married life,” I sigh, my body humming with contentment.
“Me, too,” he agrees, his fingers tracing light circles against my skin.
I prop my head up, so I can stare into his eyes. He’s so gorgeous. In his face, I see the six-year-old boy I met so many years ago, full of curiosity, energy, and mischief. I also see my twenty-five-year-old husband—strong, steady, loving, and good.
“Are you happy?” I ask, already knowing his answer.
“The happiest.” He grins and kisses the tip of my nose.
“Me, too.” I smile back. “Thank you for loving me,” I say.
This conversation is a regular one in our home.
“Always,” he says, his answer the same as usual.
Every day, I have to remind myself that this life is real, and it’s forever.
Liam’s lips find mine, and I’m lost in his kisses once more.
Most of my life, I never thought I’d find this level of joy. The nagging feeling that it just wasn’t in the cards for me was ever present. I spent years running and searching, trying to fill a void, when, in actuality, I’d always had everything I needed to be happy. I don’t regret anything though. I think the journey was crucial for me to truly appreciate the destination.
The book has closed on the lost chapters of my life, the ones where I wandered aimlessly, searching for meaning. Now, I get to write a new story with Liam. He makes me feel more loved than I knew possible. I feel safe and accepted and so very cherished. Every day is a new adventure, full of laughs, love, and lots of kisses. We have so much to look forward to. We’re just getting started. I can’t wait to build a big, beautiful family with Liam, one in which our children will be loved unconditionally. We have years of pure bliss ahead of us, and I’m going to cherish every second of every minute of every day because I know how precious this life is. It’s a gift I’ll never take for granted.
#bestlifeever
epilogue
Liam
Six Years Later
Walking into my house, I’m met with an air of happiness and laughter. The four beautiful souls under this roof are all busily engaged in their activities, granting me with one of my favorite things in life—stolen moments where I get to observe, cherish, and give gratitude toward my blessings.
The main floor of our home is one open space, containing a dining area, huge living area, and kitchen. There are no walls to separate the areas in which we live and make memories as a family. It’s a perfect design. It took Leni and me a couple of years from start to finish to get our dream home exactly the way we wanted it, but the end result was worth it. I couldn’t ask for a better place to raise my family.
Leni sits on a chair opposite the window. A canvas rests on an easel in front of her, and a paintbrush is in her hand. To her side sits her mini me, our five-year-old daughter, Addie. Addie is so much like Leni; it’s crazy. She has bright green eyes and deep chestnut hair that swings in a long ponytail, just like Leni’s. She faces a canvas, a brush in her hand.
“What color should I make the sky, Mama?” she asks.
“What color do you want to make the sky, baby?” Leni answers.
“I don’t know. You tell me,” our little spitfire says to her mom.
Leni’s head
shakes. “I can’t.” She shrugs. “Art is very personal, baby girl, and there’s no wrong way to do something. You paint what your heart tells you. Only you know what that is. What color would make you happy?”
“Pink,” Addie answers.
“What kind of pink?”
“Light pink.” Addie nods, determined.
“Oh, like the pink from the sunset last night?”
“Yes, that’s what I was thinking!” Addie says. “That pink makes me happy.”
Leni grabs a container of paint and pours a little bit into a dish on Addie’s easel. “That pink makes me happy, too. Good choice.”
Addie tilts her head up toward Leni and smiles, her expression filling with pride at her mom’s approval. It makes my heart ache, seeing my wife with our kids. She’s such a great mom, so patient, supportive, and loving. She’s a better wife than I could have ever imagined, and yet, somehow, she’s an even better mother. I’m so blessed to be able to share this life with her.
Our three-year-old Kellan sits on the counter of the kitchen island in just his underwear. His face and chest are splattered with white powder, which I know is flour. He loves cooking with his Mimi and always ends up wearing more flour than what ends up in the bowl.
“Can we put chocolate chips in the muffins?” he asks his great-grandma. His eyes—also a bright green, just like his mama’s—peer up to Mimi, hopeful.
“Well, of course, my love.” Mimi taps him on the nose.
“Can I do it?” He reaches for the measuring cup in Mimi’s hand.
“Okay. Hold it tight while I put them in.”
He sticks out his tongue in concentration while Mimi pours the chips from the bag into the measuring container in his grasp.