Completely: A Cunningham Family Short Story by Ember Casey Page B

across her face, and it stirs with the steady rhythm of her breath. Something flutters behind her eyelids.
    I don’t believe it. Is it possible…?
    She’s sleeping. My God, she’s just sleeping.
    Relief rushes through me, but after the scare I just had, I’m almost afraid to trust it. I lean over her again and push the hair gently away from her face.
    She’s so beautiful when she sleeps. And she looks so peaceful right now—so blissfully unaware of these last few moments when I thought my world was ending. Even now, my heart can’t seem to find the right rhythm.
    I feel like a complete fool. But I’d rather be a fool than face the alternative. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost Lily. She saved me—from the world and from myself—and neither the world nor I would have much meaning if she weren’t here. There’d be nothing left for me.
    She might look safe and unharmed, but I have to make absolutely certain. I cup the side of her face and gently turn her head toward me. There are no visible bruises or blood—at least at first glance. My fingers move through her hair, pressing against her scalp as I feel for bumps or injuries.
    She stirs again, and I freeze—but it’s too late. Her eyes flutter open. Her gaze lands on me.
    There’s confusion on her face as she pushes herself up on her elbow. Her eyes dart around the room, then to me, then back to the room again.
    “What’s going on?” she asks, her voice still thick with sleepiness.
    Hearing her sweet voice is almost too much to take. I grab her and pull her against me, and my lips collide with hers. She makes a little sound of surprise, but she doesn’t pull away from me. Her warm, willing mouth opens beneath mine.
    I kiss her like I’ll never have the chance to kiss her again. Because try as I might, I can’t forget the fear of that horrible moment where I thought I’d lost her. Even now, there’s a rawness, an emptiness inside of me that won’t let me go. My hands roam over her body, as if the solid warmth of her skin will confirm what my eyes are afraid to believe: that she’s here, and she’s safe, and she’s mine.
    After a moment, she pulls back and laughs.
    “What’s gotten into you?” she asks. “Why are you even here?” She glances down at her watch. “Shit. I didn’t realize what time it was.”
    I slide my hand gently up the side of her neck, unwilling to let her go, even for a minute.
    “I didn’t know where you were,” I tell her softly, my finger drifting along the line of her jaw. “And you weren’t answering your phone. I was worried.” I lean forward and brush my lips against hers again. My voice is calm, controlled, even though my body is still on edge. I want to tear off all of her clothes and make sure she’s unharmed, to inspect every inch of her bare skin with my fingers.
    “I fell asleep,” Lily says, sounding almost surprised at that fact herself. She rubs her cheek and looks around the room again. “I was hoping to get some of the decorations done for this weekend’s party. They’ve upped the number of guests again.” She smiles and waves her hand at the pile of décor next to her. “I only sat down for a minute. I was going to sort through some of this and see if anything was usable. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
    “You’ve been working too hard,” I tell her, pulling her into my lap.
    “I could say the same of you.” Her eyes are steady when they meet mine, and I know that this isn’t just some witty comeback. She means it.
    And she’s right. Is this what I wanted? A life of sixteen-hour workdays? Lily is my entire world. I want her. The rest doesn’t matter.
    I cup her face and lock her gaze in mine.
    “When I saw you on the floor,” I say, “I thought…” I can’t even voice it, as if speaking my fears aloud will make them real. They feel so ridiculous, now that I have the softness of her skin beneath my fingers, now that her bright eyes stare back at me.
    Her