John knows of only one other time in his life when he's felt this way, one other woman who made him love life again, who made things seem brighter and worth fighting for. He doesn't think of Jessica often anymore, but he thinks of her briefly now, an almost unconscious acknowledgement that he wouldn't be able to be here now without her having taught him how to properly love someone.

"Then I'll keep up the good work," he teases as he tugs at the hem of her shirt, pulling it free from her jeans and revealing the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. He presses his lips to her skin there, then lets them travel upward, toward the edge of her bra, breathing out against her skin.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "I love you so much."