Page 277 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

The ring catches the hospital light. Simple by my standards, because Addy threatened violence if I bought something “visible from space.” Elegant. Vintage inspired. A soft oval diamond with tiny stones on either side.

Her hand covers her mouth.

“Addy Clarke,” I say, and my voice breaks on her name. “I spent years thinking my life was behind me. That love was something I had already had, already lost, and had no right to ask for again.”

Her tears fall silently.

“Then you insulted me in first class.”

A wet laugh escapes her.

“You came into my home and loved my son. You argued with my dog. You challenged me, terrified me, healed parts of me I didn’t know could still feel anything. You made me want a life that wasn’t just controlled. You made me want messy, loud, impossible.”

“That’s me,” she whispers.

“That’s you.” I take her hand. “You’re not my second chance because someone else is gone. You’re my choice. My future. My home.”

Her lips tremble.

“I love you. I love our children. I love the family we’ve made, and I want all of it. The chaos. The fear. The bad singing. The orange juice that costs too much. Oliver’s runway emergencies. Captain’s crimes. Every impossible day.”

She’s crying too hard to answer.

So I ask anyway. “Marry me.”

Addy stares at me for one breath. Then she nods so hard I panic slightly.

“Yes,” she sobs. “Yes, obviously, yes.”

Relief hits me so hard I almost laugh.

I slide the ring onto her finger.

It fits.

Thank goodness.

Then I kiss her. Carefully, because she’s exhausted and sore and terrifyingly fragile in this hospital bed. But she grabs my shirt and pulls me closer anyway.

“That was a good proposal,” she whispers against my mouth.

“I’m glad it met your standards.”

“Very emotionally competent.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

I laugh, and she smiles, and for one perfect second, there is no grief in the room.

Only us.

Epilogue

ADDY

2 years later…

I always thought my wedding day would involve less screaming.