I oblige, cradling her head in my hands, and let my lips express what my heart cannot say: that I am hers, body and soul. And when we finally part, she smiles in that way that makes me know I’ve found my true home.

My home is not a place. It’s not a fixed location on the map; not Paris or New York. It is with Ava. Wherever she is—that is where I belong. I look at her and my heart is full. I respond, “You are welcome, mon coeur.”