Chapter Eleven
At the end of their wedding yesterday, Spinelli and Romey had crossed the threshold of their home and retreated to their respective rooms. He’d missed her on his way to work this morning. Having her beside him in the kitchen, listening to her relay her day of working in her hydroponic garden left him feeling… full.
He had no other word for the feeling. His mind was engaged in the explanation of her work. His ears were hooked on the sounds of her voice. His eyes were pinned to the movement of her lips.
“Do you see what I’m saying?”
Spinelli swallowed, and then blinked a couple of times. “Yes, yes. Clearly.”
“I knew you’d understand,” she smiled up at him.
He would understand. If he had heard a single word she’d said, he might have. But he hadn’t.
What he did understand
