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The morning light breaches the cracked blinds, spilling a warm glow across their still occupied bed. Sonny is still sleeping, the stress of work having been washed away in his slumber, leaving the oft worried crease in his brow gone and smoothed over for the time being. If only it could stay that way forever, Amanda's mind wanders fruitlessly. She would gladly shoulder all of his worries were she able to. It would only equate to a fraction of everything he has done for her anyway.
As she watches his steady breathing with sleepy, hooded eyes, she wonders if he can somehow feel her eyes on him in his unconsciousness. Staring at the rise and fall of his chest...at the constant, rhythmic in and out. They eventually follow the sun’s golden rays down his bare arm to where it catches the ring on his left hand in such a way that it practically shimmers against his skin, and she finds that her own breath catches in her throat for a fleeting second in response.
He is too perfect for words, she mentally adulates, though she’s positive she’s still too proud to ever say something so sugary sweet aloud. He is the only person who has ever made her feel truly beautiful in her own skin, inside and out, and the only father her girls have ever had and will ever need. He is unimaginably kind and compassionate, and smart and driven and fiercely loyal. He is her best friend and the love of her life all wrapped up into one. He’s her husband.
Her husband.
In this moment, and for the rest of their lives.
Something deep inside of her stirs at the thought, though she barely has time to linger on the feeling before he wakes with a barely audible sigh and a tilt of his head against the pillowcase.
Golden sunlight floods across blue eyes, and Sonny — her husband — smiles up at her for the first time.