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This has to be heaven.
Right?
If you tell me it’s not, I’ll call you a liar.
As soon as I got out of my car, I smelled apples and saw a bunch of the bestest dogs in the world for a second, before I was tackled by them and attacked by their kisses.
Harris always tells me I spoil the farm dogs.
But, they are the bestest dogs. How do I not spoil them?
Like I said, this is heaven.
As soon as I can, I give them all the treats I brought with me.
Still cold and fresh.
Only the best for the bestest boys and girls.
“Ilya Rozanov”, I heard a happy and friendly voice call my name. “What are you doing here? This is a surprise. Not an unwelcome one though.”
“Marlene”, I let go of my friends and wrapped her in a tight hug. She hugged me back in a way only a mother can. “I just wanted to check on my favourite lady.”
“Did you, now?” She rolls her eyes. But I can hear the fondness and amusement in her voice.
“I also wanted to see if you were still with your husband?” I added conspiratorially.
Her booming laughter reached my ears and filled my chest with a nice warmth.
I like this. I needed this today.
“Are you still with your husband?” She quipped back, emphasising the “your husband”.
My husband.
My Shane.
My world.
Hearing someone call him “my husband”, makes my heart beat faster. I can feel the heat from my chest creep up to my cheeks.
This I don’t like.
It tells everyone how in love I am.
But I am far too happy to be in love, to care about it.
She looks me over with a smile and adds, “you look different, Ilya.”
“Bad?”
“No. Good. Very good. Like you are no longer burdened by the weight of the secret that could have taken everything from you.”
“I am not scared of it anymore.”
“Yes”, she says with a smile. “When am I going to meet your husband, Ilya? I want to meet the man who is worthy of so much love and devotion.”
“You met him at the wedding,” I asked, confused. She was at the wedding. Did she not meet Shane? How could that happen?
“Weddings are always busy.” She said non-chalantly. “I didn’t get to meet him properly. I want to meet him. And grill him, to take care of you.”
“He does.” Why were my cheeks warm again. I don’t like this.
Marlene put her hand on my warmed cheek, and said gently, “good. You deserve it, Ilya. You deserve to be loved and adored the same way you love and adore him. It’s so rare to find that these days. I am so proud of you. Not only for finding it, but also for holding it. Nurturing it. Fighting for it. So proud. Almost as proud as your mother would have been, to see the boy she raised, become of the man you are today.”
I realised I was crying, when Marlene wiped any tears, and then she said, “now, come inside and tell me all about your husband. Not Shane Hollander, the hockey player. Tell me about your Shane.”
My Shane.