Whitley Cox Contemporary Erotic Romance Author

10 years ago today I married a guy I was pretty sweet on.

We’d already been together 7 years, so I was fairly certain I liked him.

Now, 17 years (10 married), 2 kids, 1 dog and 16 countries later I still really like being around him.

Could he close the kitchen cupboards when he’s done getting what he needs out of them? Sure! But even with that barely forgivable flaw, I like him enough to be the bigger person and look past it.

Like to his awesome butt.

And his enormous brain, his incredible heart and those enviable lashes and blue eyes.

This man is my person in every way that matters and I am so happy he showed up wearing black socks on our wedding day (he knew if he wore white socks I’d call the whole thing off). He is a tremendous partner, an involved and wonderful father, and the only person I want to go through this shit-biscuit of a world with until the bitter end when the aliens come and enslave us all (so like 6 or 7 years from now).

He doesn’t believe in social media and doesn’t read my blog, so he’ll never see this, but whatevs.

The other night he casually said, “I’m having a hard time coming up with an anniversary gift idea.”

I turned to him, petrified. “You mean we have to get each other something? I bought you a card and thought I was doing great.”

The relief on his face was hilarious and made me like him even more. We’re saving for a house, that will be our gift to each other. We’re going out for dinner and will just be together. That’s all I need, and I think he feels the same.