#wal

blurb continuation from the watch and learn series

Your toddler has officially started walking, and with walking comes grubby little hands wanting to explore everything.

One day, your daughter’s pulling out the contents of the closet in your spare room out onto the floor while you and Rafe sit with her on the hardwood, letting her have her fun.

She’s babbling as Rafe absentmindedly runs his hand up and down your back. He always does this, likely not even conscious that he’s touching you. You love it, how he intuitively needs to have contact with you.

“Be careful with that one,” he calls out to her as she yanks out a yearbook. When she promptly kicks it away, you giggle into Rafe’s chest, feeling him shake with laughter.

“She’s so destructive,” you say.

“Just like her mom,” he mumbles.

“I know you meant to say dad,” you scold.

“Hey, what’s this?” You laugh at Rafe’s attempt to distract you. He picks up a photo album you put together back when you first moved in.

He opens it to a random page, which happens to be a photo of you two at your college graduation.

“Your fuckboy hair,” you say, purposely shushing so she doesn’t overhear the swear word. Your eyes travel over his bangs peeking out beneath the black cap in the photo.

“You loved it,” he reminds you. You smirk, running a hand over the buzzcut he’s sporting now.

He flips to another page, full of photos from your post-college road trip. You point to a picture of him at a restaurant sitting in a booth.

“God, remember how dingy this place was?” you laugh.

“Only restaurant for miles,” Rafe groans. He can recall how much you two laughed over breakfast that day.

When you skim to another page, you see a photo of you two on the beach almost a year after getting married. You recall how you found out you were pregnant the very next day.

“Whatever happened to that shirt?” you ask, gazing at the open striped button-up he’s wearing in the captured memory.

Rafe points to your daughter.

“We were playing outside and I got a grass stain on it, remember?” he says.

Now you do remember. Your daughter was merely crawling at that point, but when she got too close to the concrete pathway, Rafe dove to grab her, ruining his clothes in the process.

“That was 100% on you,” you reply with a shrug. Rafe smirks. It’s true. In his eyes, his daughter can do no wrong.

When she tries to pull down clothes from the hangers in the closet, he jumps up to pick her up, kissing her cheek.

You watch your husband with a proud grin. He was once so afraid of affection and now he wears his heart on his sleeve. Only with you two, though.

Rafe meets your eyes and feels enamored by your smile like he always does.

“Thanks for putting that together, baby,” he says, glancing down at the album. He remembers the photos you had all over the walls of your college dorm. He always appreciated your sentimentality.

“Thanks for making me so happy that I wanted to,” you say sincerely. He leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Can you give a kiss, too?” he asks your toddler. She erupts in giggles at the way he holds her, swinging her above you as she plants a kiss on you.

“So nice!” you cheer, gently pinching her cheek.

Rafe straightens and squeezes her into a tight hug. Even now, years into your relationship, he wonders if he really truly deserves this happy of a life.