Three years later...

Adelaide

On the morning of my twentieth birthday, I wake up next to Justin in our small apartment, my head resting on his bare chest as I blink against the beams of sunlight pouring into our bedroom.

For the past year and a half, I have been waking up next to him every morning. But today is different than the rest - and it's not because it's my birthday.

I prop myself up on my elbow and stare at him as he sleeps, keeping my other arm wrapped around his body. After taking in every detail I love about him, I replay what happened last night. When Justin told me he wanted to wait until he was better back in high school, I didn't care how long the wait was because I knew it would be worth it. And I was right.

Last night was the best night of my life.

Just when I thought we couldn't get any closer, we intertwined our souls and learned things about each other that only the two of us will ever know. He was everything I ever imagined him to be in bed - gentle, respectful, passionate, and freaking amazing.

That aside, there was also a much deeper meaning. It's been three whole years since Justin had his last seizure. Since his last surgery, any MRI results have come back clear and he's been off his meds for two years now. He finally got his licence and is able to drive me wherever I need to go, which usually isn't very far away from where he needs to go. Just like we discussed, we stayed in Kelowna to attend school. I did two years at Okanagan College with the nursing program and then transferred my credits to UBCO to further my career. Justin fulfilled his dream career of becoming an electrician and even managed to start up his own company after he completed the program at OC.

And I couldn't be prouder of him. He has so much strength and courage that I can't stop myself from admiring him. Any person that goes through something like he has must have a strong heart to do so without averting to options that can numb the pain. He faced that pain, dealt with it, and conquered it in the end. Justin always tells me that I'm the reason why he made it through, but I disagree. It was his choice to go through with the surgery. It was his choice to tell me about his life. I was only there to support him through everything. He did the rest by himself.

He's the reason why he's where he is today and I'm just lucky enough to be a part of his life. Honoured, really.

Reaching up, I trace his defined jawbone with my fingertips. I hope I never get used to waking up next to him. I hope that every morning is different in its own special way.

After a couple of seconds, he stirs, slowly opening his eyes. And I watch - I watch as he stretches his body, muscles contracting beneath the blankets, and blinks to adapt to the beams of sunshine.

When my eyes meet his, my heart begins to beat rapidly. I can see the look in his eyes while we made love last night. I can see my future with him.

"Morning," he smiles, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," I whisper, letting my hand drop back to his chest.

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. "I could get used to this," he murmurs, pulling my naked body against his.

I giggle and plant a kiss on his cheek, suppressing a gasp as he begins to rub my back.

"I'm not dreaming, am I?" he asks.

"Nope," I whisper. "This is real as real can be. It's you and me, Justin."

He smiles, opening his eyes. "Sometimes it seems too good to be true - all of this."

I give him a small smile. For the majority of the time, it seems everything has set in place - the shock of being able to do whatever he wants, that he no longer has to depend on meds, that we have our own place - and he's accepted the truth. There are, however, moments like these where everything seems to overwhelm him. You'd think it would annoy me after three years, but it doesn't. I understand why he's overwhelmed sometimes. Having total and complete control of everything is a big step, but he's handled it all marvellously. Some things, such as driving, needed to be taken slowly but other things, such as school, he was willing to jump right into.

"I know," I reply, resting my hand on his cheek. "But it's real. All of it."

"Sorry I get like this sometimes," he says meekly.

"Justin," I say firmly. "It's fine. Don't be sorry. I get it, okay?" Just like I get why he started crying the day he passed his driver's test and got his license. Just like he gets emotional whenever MRI results come back clear. I understand it all.

He smiles at me, and before I know it, I'm on top of him and he's holding me close. Gently, he rests his hand on the back of my head and pulls his lips down to mine. However, before he kisses me, he whispers, "Happy Birthday, Addie."

"Thanks," I whisper, closing the remaining space between us.

This kiss, just like any other we've shared, is magical and perfect and I never want it to end. I could spend the rest of my life hung up in this moment with him, cuddled beneath the tangled sheets and kissing.

But we've got years ahead of us, years full of potential and love and those small moments that add up to create everything. And you never doubt the power of a small moment.

Giving me a lopsided grin, Justin pulls back and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "You go get ready. I'll take care of breakfast today."

"Justin," I say. "You don't - "

"I'm stopping you right there, Addie. It's your birthday and there's nothing you can do to stop me from making breakfast."

I give up not because now that he's able to do everything on his own I've found out he's actually an amazing cook, but because he's stubborn as heck when it comes to stuff like this. Once he's made up his mind, there's no going back. It's something that came with newfound confidence and independence.

"Fine," I reply, watching as he gets out of bed. I bite my bottom lip, watching intently and wondering how I got so lucky to have him all to myself.

"Quit staring," he jokes as he pulls on his boxers.

"Why?" I ask without thinking. "We've both seen everything and, I, personally, can't help myself."

This is another one of those moments where I wish my filter would kick in. I close my eyes as my cheeks burn. I shouldn't be embarrassed after what we did last night, but I am.

Justin, used to my shenanigans, laughs and leans down to plant a kiss on my forehead. "God, you're cute," he says.

"Glad someone thinks so," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

He laughs again. "Get ready. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

In the next twenty minutes, I've showered, gotten dressed, brushed my teeth, and tied my wet hair up into a high ponytail. Exiting the small bathroom, I'm welcomed by the fragrant, delicious smell of bacon, pancakes, hash browns, and eggs with hollandaise. There's also the faint aroma of coffee.

It sounds like a lot of food, but Justin and I have mastered the art of cooking meals for two. When we first moved in together, we were both used to cooking for more than two people and ended up eating leftover spaghetti for days. But, just like everything else, we adapted.

In my oversized, tan, knitted sweater, I grab a mug from the cupboard above the sink and fill it with coffee, adding a couple splashes of cream. Justin's in the midst of flipping the last pancake when I walk up behind him and wrap an arm around his waist. "Everything smells delicious," I murmur in his ear.

"That," he says after swallowing a piece of bacon he was working on, "is exactly what I want to hear. Everything's almost ready. Go sit down."

Without arguing that I can dish up my own plate, I go sit down at the breakfast bar. It's tiny and there's barely any room for both of us to sit down, but I like it. The closeness is comforting and homey.

As I sip my coffee, I watch Justin, thinking about how much he's changed. And not just mentally. Everything about him has changed. He's no longer skinny as heck; he's filled out from having the ability to go to the gym every morning and having more options for food. He's bright and glowing. He's got a skip in his step, and his attitude is much more positive that it was before. And, obviously, he's stronger than ever.

Which is why I love him so much.

Which is why when I look at him, all I can see is a future together. I can see myself in a white wedding dress and my dad walking me down the aisle, Justin standing at the altar, waiting for me to change my last name to McCallister. I can see us in a larger house with kids and a cat and having our parents over for dinner without having to cram people into the living room. We'd be sitting at an actual dining room table.

I chuckle to myself. Here I am thinking about a dining room table when what we clearly need is a larger bathroom.

Justin must feel my eyes on him because he turns around and asks, "What?"

My smile broadens. "I hope you know that I'm not going anywhere. Every girl needs a man that can cook her breakfast like this."

"Yeah," he replies sarcastically, "because that's totally why you stick around."

"What if it is?" I challenge, cocking an eyebrow.

Justin sets my plate down in front of me and looks me directly in the eye. "Then I will make breakfast for you every morning until the day I die."

Forgetting about the food, I lean over the breakfast bar and grab the collar of his shirt. He's got it on backwards, but I don't say anything. Instead, I kiss him.

"I...love...you..." I murmur in between kisses.

He responds, but it's jumbled to me. My heart is beating so fast and hard it's filling my ears. The fire in my blood is fuelling me to keep going, to keep kissing him until we're both starving for oxygen.

Sometimes I wish we could have found each other sooner, but I always remind myself that if we had, we might not be here right now. The timing could have been off or it could have been too soon for him. Or maybe I wouldn't have had a chance to give him the note that started it all.

That's why these small moments are so important - you never know what they can add up to in the end.

And what I've gotten because of that note I slipped into his binder, I wouldn't trade for anything.

It's me and Justin. Justin and me.

No matter what happens, we're in this together.