Counting The Days

The two weeks before the wedding felt like the sweetest countdown of my life. Every morning started the same beautiful way. Colossus would wake me with soft kisses along my shoulder and the smell of fresh coffee. He’d pull me into his chest, big arms wrapping around me like I was the only thing anchoring him to the world. “Thirteen days,” he whispered this morning, voice still husky with sleep as he nuzzled my neck. “Thirteen days until I get to call you my wife in front of everyone who matters.” I smiled and turned in his arms, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips. “You keep counting. I keep falling more in love with the man who gets excited about forever with me.” He kissed me slowly, tenderly, like every second was precious. His big hand stroked my back in soothing pattern