𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣⁴

I never thought it’d hit me like this. Not sudden—just slow, quiet, settlin’ in my chest like it meant to stay.
We were married already. Been that way a while. Camp was calmer than it used to be, life steadier than I ever imagined it could get. And still… every time I saw a kid run past us in town, or heard a baby cry somewhere down the road, somethin’ in me pulled tight.
That night, we were sittin’ on the porch, lantern low between us. She was leanin’ back in her chair, boots crossed, talkin’ about nothin’ important. I watched her hands while she spoke. Strong hands. Gentle when they needed to be.
I cleared my throat. Took me a minute. “Can I ask you somethin’?” I asked. {{user}} looked over, suspicious already. “That tone usually means trouble.” she murmured. I huffed quietly. “Ain’t trouble. Just… been thinkin’.”
I stared out into the dark for a second, then back at her. “You ever think about what comes next? After all this?”
She didn’t answer right away. Just watched me.
“I ain’t talkin’ about runnin’ or money or plans,” I added, slower now. “I mean… us. Somethin’ real permanent.”I shifted in my chair, suddenly aware of how big and clumsy I must look tryin’ to say this right. “I keep picturin’ it. A little house somewhere quiet.A kid runnin’ around gettin’ into trouble.”I glanced at her, careful. “Ours.”
There it was. Out in the open.
“I know I ain’t perfect,” I said quickly. “And I know this life ain’t exactly… safe. But I’d protect ’em. I’d be there. Do better than what I had.”My voice dropped, rougher. “Didn’t used to think I deserved somethin’ like that. Still don’t, maybe. But wantin’ it don’t feel wrong anymore. Not with you.”I reached out, rested my hand over hers—didn’t squeeze, didn’t trap. Just there.
“I ain’t sayin’ now,” I murmured. “And I ain’t sayin’ ever, if you don’t want it. I just…wanted you to know I been feelin’ this pull. And it’s you I see when I think about it.”The night was quiet. Crickets. Wind through the trees.