I was seconds from saying I do in my Nashville wedding when two small kids walked in with a letter for my groom—and his face went dead white.

Six months later, we threw Lily and Milo a joint birthday party.

Lily was turning nine. Milo was turning seven.

We had it in the big backyard of the house we’d bought together—Clara and I, with our combined savings, a small three-bedroom with a white picket fence, just like in Lily’s drawing.

There was a bounce house. A face painter. A cake shaped like a soccer ball on one side and a paint palette on the other.

All the kids’ friends from school were there.

My mom and dad. Clara’s sister and her family. My best friend from the boutique. Ethan, of course, who’d moved in with us two months before.

The kids ran around the yard, laughing, screaming, covered in cake and ice cream.

I stood on the porch, watching them, a glass of lemonade in my hand.

Ethan came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Happy?” he asked, soft.

I smiled.

“So happy,” I said.

Clara walked over, holding a stack of presents, grinning.

“Lily and Milo have something for you,” she said.

She called the kids over.

They ran up, both holding crumpled pieces of paper behind their backs.

“Close your eyes, Aunt Lottie!” Lily said, bouncing on her heels.

I closed my eyes.

“Okay, open!”

I opened them.

They held up two drawings, side by side.

Lily’s was of all five of us—me, Ethan, Clara, her, Milo—standing in front of our house, holding hands.

At the bottom, in big sparkly letters, it said: MY FAMILY.

Milo’s was messier, stick figures with big heads and tiny legs.

He pointed to each one.

“That’s you,” he said, pointing to the biggest stick figure with a smile. “That’s Ethan. That’s Mommy. That’s me. That’s Lily.”

He looked up at me, his eyes big and serious.

“You’re our mommy too, right?” he said. “Forever?”

My throat tightened so bad I could barely breathe.

I knelt down, so I was eye level with them.

I looked at Lily. She nodded, like she’d been waiting for Milo to ask.

I looked at Clara. She was crying, smiling, nodding too.

I looked at Ethan. He smiled, wiping a tear off his cheek.

I looked back at the kids.

“Yeah, baby,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m your mommy too. Forever. I’m never going anywhere. I promise.”

Milo threw his arms around my neck. Lily joined him, squeezing so tight I could barely breathe.

I held them, crying happy tears, while everyone around us clapped and cheered.

Later that night, after all the guests had left, after the kids were asleep in their beds, the four of us—me, Ethan, Clara, and my mom—sat on the back porch, drinking wine, watching the fireflies.

I thought back to that day in the church, a year and a half ago.

I’d thought my life was over.

I’d thought I’d never be happy again.

I’d had no idea that the worst day of my life would turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Because it led me here.

To Clara, my sister in every way that mattered.

To Lily and Milo, the kids who’d stolen my heart the second they walked down that aisle.

To Ethan, the man who loved me for exactly who I was, no lies, no secrets.

To my family.

Not the one I’d planned.

Not the perfect little life I’d imagined with Daniel.

Better.