Chapter 10
Our wedding was small, six months later.
We had it in the backyard, under the big oak tree by the treehouse.
Only twenty people.
Mom.
The staff, who were family now.
Daniel’s few close friends.
Ethan was the ring bearer.
He wore a tiny tuxedo, his hair combed, a proud smile on his face, carrying the rings down the aisle on a velvet pillow.
He didn’t trip once.
I walked down the aisle on Mom’s arm, in a simple white dress, the sun warm on my face.
Daniel was waiting for me at the end, crying when he saw me.
We said our vows under the tree, our hands clasped tight, promising to love each other, to take care of each other, to be there for each other through everything.
When the priest said you may kiss the bride, Ethan yelled “FINALLY!” so loud everyone laughed.
We had cake after.
Chocolate, of course.
Ethan ate three slices, getting frosting all over his tuxedo, and fell asleep under the tree before the sun went down.
That was a year ago.
Today, I’m standing by the same oak ballroom door where Ethan found me, eighteen months ago.
I’m wearing a simple summer dress, the wedding ring on my finger, my hand resting on my small, growing belly.
We’re having a girl.
Due in three months.
Ethan is already obsessed.
Talks to my belly every night, telling his baby sister all about dinosaurs, promising to teach her how to build the best Lego towers, promising to protect her from anything bad.
Mom is here, of course.
She’s in the garden, showing the new maid how to plant roses, laughing loud, her face bright and healthy.
Daniel comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me back against his chest, kissing the top of my head.
“What are you thinking about?” he says, soft, his hands resting on my belly, feeling the baby kick.
I smile, leaning my head back against his shoulder.
“That night,” I say. “The ball. The wine stain. Evelyn’s heel in my wrist. The envelope. I was so scared. I thought my life was over. I had no idea… all of this was waiting for me.”
He holds me tighter.
“Ethan knew,” he says, quiet. “The second he saw you. He knew you were ours. I just took a little longer to catch up.”
We stand there in silence, watching Mom in the garden, listening to the birds, feeling the warm sun on our faces.
“MAMA! DADDY!”
Ethan comes running across the lawn, holding a drawing in his hand, his sneakers slapping against the grass.
He skids to a stop in front of us, grinning, holding up the drawing.
It’s crayon, messy, bright.
Four stick figures.
Daniel, tall, in a blue suit.
Me, in a pink dress, with a big round belly.
Ethan, in green, holding a T-Rex.
And a tiny stick figure with pigtails, between us.
Our Family, it says at the top, in Ethan’s wobbly handwriting.
“It’s us,” he says, proud, pointing to each one. “That’s you, Daddy. That’s you, Mama. That’s me. And that’s the baby. We’re all together. Forever.”
I kneel down, pulling him into a hug, kissing his forehead.
“Forever,” I say, quiet.
He wraps his arms around my neck, squeezing tight.
“I told you, Mama,” he says, grinning, like he’s told me a hundred times before. “I knew you were the one. The second I saw you crying by that door. I knew you’d be my mama forever. I knew we’d be happy.”
I look up at Daniel.
He’s smiling down at us, his eyes warm, his hand resting on my shoulder.
I think of the girl I was eighteen months ago.
Scared.
Tired.
Alone.
Scrubbing wine off a floor, wondering how she’d ever keep her mom alive, wondering if she’d ever be happy, ever be loved, ever be safe.
I think of the woman I am now.
Wife.
Mother.
Daughter.
Loved.
Safe.
Home.
I stand up, taking Daniel’s hand in one of mine, Ethan’s in the other, the baby kicking soft under my heart.
We walk toward the garden, toward Mom, toward our future, the sun warm on our faces, the wind blowing soft through the trees.
Ethan is right.
He knew.
All along.
And I will spend the rest of my life thanking whatever lucky star brought that little boy to me, crying by a ballroom door, with nothing but an envelope and a whole lot of hope.
Because he was right.
We are happy.
We are together.
May you like
We are family.
Forever.
