She patted my thigh. “Come back to me in five to seven business days.”
I moved my hands up and down her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“You’re the light of my life, Lucia,” I whispered.
It wasn’t a lie. That’s what her name meant.
Light.
And it wasn’t until her light entered my life that I finally understood what love was.
I got there in the end—just about.
Laurent
Four Months Later
Lucia had her ups and downs after giving birth. With time, patience, and love, we came through it together. Most days, she was fine—but sometimes she’d cry while holding Lia, mourning the family she never had.
After she met my mother, she decided that some families were overrated.
She refused any medication, not wanting even trace amounts to pass through her breast milk. By the third month, she began to even out.
I’d wait before mentioning therapy. She’d carried a lifetime of trauma alone, and I wanted to help her in any way I could.
I saw her in the doorway—Allison, Evelyn, and Sana following close behind—and I swallowed hard.
Sunlight poured into the church behind her as she stepped forward, but nothing could outshine the brightness of her blue eyes or dim the warmth of her smile.
She glanced at Garrett, who stood beside me holding Lia, and then she started to move faster.
“Your daughter’s watching. Don’t start crying,” Garrett muttered under his breath.
I ignored him as my future wife reached the altar. Her white dress caught the light and seemed to shimmer with every step. She took my breath away.
There was no veil to hide her from me. I held out my hand, and she placed hers over mine—small and dainty, but strong. I’d learned the truth of that grip during Lia’s birth.
I pulled her close, and together we turned to face the priest.
This was a far cry from the wedding I’d planned all those months ago.
I glanced at Lia, who smiled back at me.
Both my girls could melt my heart with a single look.
I kissed my baby girl, ignoring the priest when he cleared his throat.
The things I did for Lucia.
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“I can’t believe Garrett, of all people, turned out to be such a wonderful manny,” Lucia whispered against my chest.
“He might as well be good for something while I’m off work,” I said, gently swaying to the music.
Her hand slid lower, fingers curling around me through the fabric. Parenthood had put my needs on the back burner, but with Lucia, all it ever took was one look, one touch—and I was ready.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” I said, waving a hand to Garrett.
