Chapter 10
Our first wedding anniversary.
I woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon drifting up the stairs.
I walked downstairs, and found Daniel in the kitchen, wearing an apron that said “World’s Okayest Cook,” flipping pancakes.
The table was set with my favorite china, a vase of pink roses in the center, a small wrapped box next to my plate.
“Happy anniversary, baby,” he said, smiling, as I walked in.
He pulled me close, and kissed me slow and soft.
“Happy anniversary,” I said, when he pulled away. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“Like hell I didn’t,” he said. “Best day of my life. The day I married the love of my life.”
My mom and Hannah walked in, carrying a big cake they’d baked the night before.
“Happy anniversary!” they yelled, in unison.
I laughed, and hugged them both.
“You guys are the best,” I said.
We ate breakfast, laughing and talking, opening cards and gifts.
Daniel’s gift to me was a photo album.
Filled with pictures from the past year.
Our wedding. My mom coming home from the hospital. Hannah’s graduation. The opening of my boutique. The day we moved into the farmhouse.
Every page was a memory.
Every photo, a moment of joy.
I cried when I finished it.
“I love it,” I said. “I love you.”
That afternoon, we had a small party in the backyard.
Just our closest friends.
Our lawyer, who’d become like family.
Daniel’s construction crew.
The girls who worked at my boutique.
The nurses who’d taken care of my mom.
We strung lights in the trees, set up tables, grilled burgers and hot dogs, played music.
It was perfect.
Simple. Warm. Full of love.
As the sun started to set, Daniel tapped his glass with a fork.
Everyone went quiet.
“Can I have everyone’s attention?” he said, smiling.
He turned to me.
“One year ago today,” he said, his voice soft but steady, “I married the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I knew she was special the first time I saw her, laughing in that diner, covered in coffee, not a care in the world. But I had no idea how strong she was. How brave. How kind. She’s been through more in the last two years than most people go through in a lifetime. And she’s come out of it stronger. More beautiful. More full of love than anyone I know. She gave me a family. She gave my sister a home. She gave her mom a second chance at life. She makes me want to be a better man, every single day. Olivia, I love you more than words can say. And I can’t wait to spend the next fifty, sixty, seventy years loving you. Happy anniversary, baby.”
Everyone cheered.
I cried, again, and kissed him.
Then Hannah tapped her glass.
“My turn,” she said, grinning.
She looked at me.
“A year and a half ago,” she said, “I was a scared kid, living in a house with a mom who didn’t love me, who stole my future, who made me feel like I was nothing. Then I met you. You didn’t know me. You had every reason to hate everyone with my last name. But you took me in. You loved me. You gave me a home. You gave me a future. You’re not just my sister-in-law. You’re my sister. My best friend. The person I look up to more than anyone in the world. Thank you. For everything. I love you.”
She hugged me, tight.
Then my mom stood up.
She looked at me, her eyes glistening.
“I don’t have a lot to say,” she said, her voice thick. “But I want to say this. I used to lie awake at night, scared to death that I was going to leave my baby alone in this world. That no one would take care of her. That no one would love her the way she deserved. But I don’t worry about that anymore. Because I know she’s surrounded by people who love her. Who would die for her. Who make her happy. I have my health back. I have a home. I have a family. And it’s all because of my girl. Olivia, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m so proud of you. I love you, more than life itself.”
She hugged me, and I held her tight, crying into her shoulder.
I was surrounded by love.
So much love I could barely breathe.
Later that night, after all the guests had left, after my mom and Hannah had gone to bed, Daniel and I walked out into the backyard.
The stars were bright.
The fireflies were dancing in the grass.
The air smelled like roses and cut grass.
Daniel pulled me close, and we slow-danced in the dark, no music, just the sound of the crickets and our breathing.
“I have one more surprise for you,” he said, after a few minutes.
He pulled a small envelope out of his pocket.
I frowned.
“Daniel,” I said, laughing. “You’ve already given me too much.”
“Just open it,” he said, smiling.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a piece of paper.
A pregnancy test.
Positive.
I looked up at him, my mouth falling open.
“Are you…?” I whispered.
He nodded, his eyes glistening.
“We’re having a baby,” he said. “I found out this morning. I wanted to wait until tonight to tell you. Our anniversary. The best gift I could ever give you.”
I screamed, and threw my arms around his neck, crying happy tears.
“A baby,” I said, over and over. “We’re having a baby.”
He held me tight, rocking me back and forth.
“Our baby,” he said. “Gonna grow up in this house. With a grandma who spoils them rotten. An aunt who teaches them to stand up for themselves. A dad who builds them treehouses and teaches them to throw a ball. And a mom who is the strongest, kindest, most amazing woman in the world. They’re gonna be so loved.”
I pulled back, and looked at him.
At the man I loved.
At the father of my child.
I thought of everything we’d been through.
The fear. The pain. The lies.
And now this.
This perfect, beautiful miracle.
I touched my stomach, already imagining the little life growing inside me.
Our baby.
A new beginning.
For all of us.
We walked back to the porch, where my mom and Hannah were waiting, holding a tiny white onesie that said “World’s Most Loved Baby.”
They’d known.
They’d all known.
They’d been waiting to tell me, together.
We sat on the porch swing, the four of us, talking late into the night.
About names. About nurseries. About all the things we’d teach the baby.
About how much love they were going to grow up with.
As the sun started to come up, painting the sky pink and orange, I leaned my head on Daniel’s shoulder, and looked at my family.
My mom, laughing, holding the tiny onesie.
Hannah, already making a list of all the things she was going to teach her niece or nephew.
Daniel, his hand resting on my stomach, a smile on his face so big it looked like it might break.
And me.
Happy. Safe. Loved.
Completely, totally, unshakably loved.
I thought of Margaret, alone in a prison cell, with nothing but her lies and her greed to keep her company.
She’d thought she could take everything from me.
She’d thought money and power were all that mattered.
But she’d been wrong.
So wrong.
Because the things that matter?
They can’t be bought. Or stolen. Or destroyed.
They’re the things you build. With love. With courage. With the people who choose you, every single day.
I had that.
I had everything.
I closed my eyes, and smiled.
The sun was up.
A new day.
A new year.
May you like
A new life.
And I knew, with every fiber of my being, that the best was yet to come.
