“Are you moving out?""Nope. Lost a bet.”

“What kind of husband would I be if I bet against my own marriage?'I smiled. 'The stupid kind. Didn't you listen to your dad when he told you not to bet against me?”

“You can’t be that sure,” he said, the anxiousness absent from his voice.I raised an eyebrow, and my mouth pulled to one side. “Wanna bet?”

“Would you like to make a wager on that, Abby Abernathy?” he smiled, his eyes animated. I smiled. “I’ll take that bet. I think he’ll get one in on you.”

“I perched my chin on his shoulder and smiled. "That was because you were trying to win our bet."He angled his neck to face me. "Damn right I was.”

“I shook my head, and his eyes traveled up my wall to the ceiling. I could almost see the wheels spinning inside his head. “What are you up to?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.“I’m trying to think of another bet.”

“I lifted my head up once more, noticing the contentment in his eyes as he looked at me. It was similar to the peace I had seen on his face after I lost the bet to stay with him in the apartment, after I told him I loved him for the first time, and the morning after the Valentine’s dance. It was similar, but different. This was absolute—permanent. The cautious hope had vanished from his eyes, unqualified trust taking its place.I recognized it only because his eyes mirrored what I was feeling.”