“I missed you so much," she breathed.I tilted my head back and put my hands on her shoulders. I could hardly believe this was happening. I was finally getting to touch her. To kiss her. It was all happening. "I missed you, too.”

“I kissed her.  I kissed her so thatshe could feel my regret, my desire to do right, the way that she had a pieceof me now and I wasn’t letting go.  I kissed her because I had to and kissingher made me feel better.  When I lifted my head her mouth looked puffy and dampand her eyes were glassy with banked passion.I missed you too.”

“I looked at Mommy but quickly shook my head. "I don't want to miss her."Becky put her soft, warm hand on my shoulder, just like Mommy used to when I was upset. "Your mom wants to be here with you. She wants that very much. But Jesus wants her with him right now."I frowned. "I need her more than Jesus does.”

“I do miss being pregnant. I find sometimes that I'm surprised by the difference between her body and my own -- that when I reach for her hand, I can't feel my touch with her fingers. This often happens when I walk with her in the sling, which must be as close as we can get to the womb. I'll touch her little leg or head and be surprised by the feeling of otherness. Her body is her own now.”

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous,” I say. She looks at me, her resolve melting with my words. I take her face in my hands and gently press my lips to hers. She sighs a quiet, defeated sigh into my mouth and relents, parting her lips for me. I run my hands down her arms and to her waist, then pull her out of the chair and on top of me as I lean back onto the bed.I place one hand on the small of her back, pressing her into me, and my other hand I run through her hair, grabbing the back of her head. I kiss her hard as I roll her onto her back, proving to her that she has absolutely nothing to be jealous of. As soon as I’m on top of her, she places her hands on my cheeks and forces my face apart from hers.“So your lips touched someone else’s lips? After our first kiss?”I fall back onto the bed beside her. “Lake, stop it. Stop thinking about it,” I say.“I can’t, Will.” She turns to me and makes that damn pouty face she knows I can’t refuse. “I need to know. In my head all I can picture is you taking some girl out on this perfect date and making her grilled cheese sandwiches and playing “would you rather” with her and sharing seriously intense moments with her, then kissing the hell out of her at the end of the night.”Her description of our first date causes me to laugh. I lean over and press my lips to her ear and whisper, “Is that what I did to you? I kissed the hell out of you?”She pulls her neck away and shoots me a glare, letting me know she isn’t backing down until she gets her way. “Fine,” I say, pulling back. “If I tell you all about it will you promise to let me kiss the hell out of you again?”“Promise,” she says.”

“How can I judge?" she said at last. "To me, he is a hero. To the world a monster." She let her head fall into her arms and started crying quietly. "I miss him! Curse him! I miss him!"Mithorden put a hand on her shoulder and let her cry for a few minutes. A sad smile slowly spread across his face. "I'm glad you can forgive him," he said at last.Luthiel lifted her head. "How do you know?"Because you miss him.”