Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“You’re still beautiful,” I told Jesse.
He turned to me with a cheeky smirk. “Junebug, are you flirting with me?”
“Always,” I said, and my husband kissed me on my lips.
I laid my head on his shoulder and basked in the peace that was this life. We had lived a full and happy life, Jesse as a football coach and artist, and me as a writer. After his two battles with cancer, Jesse’s body wasn’t as strong as it once had been. The NFL had no longer been in his future. But he loved coaching more than he’d ever loved playing. We had moved to my hometown, where he became a high school football coach—an amazing one at that. And with his local gallery showings of his art alongside his coaching career, Jesse never wanted for anything else.
I still wrote, the passion within me never wavering. And every love story I put to paper was somehow inspired by my own. We got our little life. But our greatest achievement played out before us now. One boy and one girl of our own, and a whole load of grandkids.
“I’ve loved our life,” I said to Jesse, a smile in my voice.
“I’ve loved our life too,” he said, and placed his finger under my chin. Then he kissed me again—he kissed me like he had in all our many years together. He kissed me like we were still seventeen and we had just met our soul’s other half.
Jesse squeezed my hand that was still in his. With his free hand he raised his fist and said, “Group two has won, Junebug.”
I raised my fist and bumped it to his. “Group two has won.”
Because we had. We had lived, we had thrived, we had loved, and we absolutely, positively had won.
The End