Page 28 of Every Other Memory


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“Just wait until she starts walking. Scott was telling me how Clint is into everything these days. They found him on the bathroom sink covered in shaving cream the other day.” Trevin laughs.

“Stop,” I tell him, barely containing my own laughter. “You’re going to jinx us.”

“No way, not our angel,” he says, taking Hazel from my arms. He blows on her belly, making her cackle with laughter.

“Where do we start?” I ask, looking around at all the boxes.

“One box at a time. We’re both off this week, and Thea said she would keep Hazel even though we’re not working, so we can bust it all out. However, right now, I want to show you something.”

He holds his hand out for me and leads me down the hall toward the first-floor master suite. Pushing open the door, he motions for me to walk in first. When I step into the room, I gasp at what I see. There are hundreds if not thousands of rose petals spread out on the gray hardwood floor. Candles, which appear to be operating on batteries instead of actual flames, are placed around the room as well.

I turn to look at him and find him kneeling on the floor, Hazel still on his hip. “Mommy, we love you,” he says, glancing down at Hazel. “You take care of us and have given us, given me my reason for living. I can’t imagine my life without either of my girls. What do you say we make this forever thing official? We want you to be a Hubbard with us,” he says, as he offers an open tiny blue box, with a diamond ring sparkling at me.

I don’t need to think about it. “Yes.” I walk to where they are and kneel with them. He places Hazel on the floor, and she crawls away.

“That’s why I chose the battery candles.” He shakes his head, watching our daughter before turning those hazel eyes on me. His lips capture mine, and time seems to stand still as I process the fact that this man just asked me to marry him.

“We’re getting married,” I murmur against his lips.

The smile he gives me lights up his face. Pulling the ring out of the box, he slides it on my finger. “I love you, future Mrs. Hubbard.”

“I love you too.”

He looks around me to check on Hazel. “No, baby girl. We don’t eat flowers,” he says, standing to grab her and take the rose petal she was trying to shove into her mouth.

I smile at them and look back at my ring.

A lifetime of this is exactly what I want. Trevin is no longer a memory; he’s my heart, and he’s my future.

Epilogue Trevin

Trevin

Five years later

As I sit here on the back deck, nursing a beer holding my son, I can’t help but reflect on my life. A chance meeting at a club. An attraction that was undeniable led me here to where I am today. Hazel cackles with laughter as Cadence chases after her, our middle daughter Violet doing her best to catch up with them.

Cadence drops to her knees in a pile of leaves, our daughters doing the same and their laughter of my girls fills my heart. Connor stretches his little arms and legs, but stays resting against my chest. He’ll be three weeks old tomorrow. I missed all the pregnancy moments with Hazel, so when we found out we were pregnant with Violet, I made sure I didn’t miss a single second. Nothing changed when we found out we were pregnant with our little man. There is nothing better in this life than watching the woman you love grow with a child that the two of you created out of the love that you share.

Nothing better.

The fall leaves blow through the air, and as the sun begins to set, I know I need to get Connor inside. Standing, I grab my half-empty bottle of beer to do just that, but the Hubbard girls race to the back deck, and two sets of little arms are wrapping around my legs.

“Hey, handsome.” Cadence rises on her toes and kisses me. “I see he’s still snoozing.”

“He is.” She places her hand over mine that’s resting on Connor’s back.

“Daddy, can we have a piggyback ride? Please?” Hazel asks.

“Pwease?” Violet, at three, mocks her older sister.

“Hand him over, Hubbard. You know you can’t resist them.”

“It’s not just them I can’t resist.” I bend down and kiss her again. No matter how many times my lips are pressed against hers, it will never be enough. Not in this lifetime, and not the next. I crave her.

“Eww, Daddy, stop kissing Mommy.” Hazel pulls on my jeans.

“Oh, I think someone needs the tickle monster after that.” The words barely leave my mouth before my daughters are screeching with pure joy and racing into the house to hide.

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