Lorie drove us back to Callahan’s apartment after sunset. Buddy padded in first, exhausted from too much attention, and curled up near the bedroom doorway with the deep sigh of a dog who had fulfilled all duties expected of him.
My sister hugged me hard at the door. « You deserve this, Merry, » she whispered. « I’m so happy for you, love. »
Then she left, and it was just my husband and me, and the first quiet of our marriage settling around us.
I guided Callahan to the bedroom by the hand. When we reached the edge of the bed, he turned toward me, and I was more nervous than I had been walking down the aisle.
Not because he could see me. Because he couldn’t.
A part of me had always believed Callahan’s blindness made me possible, that with him, I would never have to watch recognition flicker across a man’s face and wonder whether love had survived the first full look.
He lifted a hand slowly. « Merritt… can I? »
I nodded.
His fingers found my cheek first, then the scarred line of my jaw, then the ridges along my throat above the lace. I nearly stopped him by instinct. Years of hiding do not disappear just because someone is gentle once. But Callahan moved with such care that I let him.
« You’re beautiful, » he whispered.
