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“Oh, yes, I’ve brought toys to try out.”
“Toys.”
“Yes. You’ll like them.”
“I’m turning forty. I don’t play with toys anymore.”
He laughed, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “You’ll want to play with these toys, I promise.”
“Alright, color me intrigued.”
“You buy me toys?” Dallas asked, a big grin splitting his face as he looked up at us. Owen nearly choked on his tongue as he laughed, scooping the little boy up into his arms.
“You have enough toys, you goof. I got Mommy a toy.”
“We play with mommy toys?” Virginia asked, giving us her signature sweet angelic smile.
“No, not a chance,” I said, lifting her onto my hip as we walked through the gate into Wembley Stadium.
Dakota was right. It was surreal to think that this was our life now because two and a half years ago, I would’ve never guessed that I’d be a mother of the two most perfect children, happily married to a man who surprised me every day and made me wonder why I’d even bothered to try and live life without him.
That mix-up at the clinic was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I definitely should’ve sent them more than a thank you card with a picture of the twins. They deserved my undying gratitude.
But then again, I saved that for Owen every night when we fell into each other’s arms. And he would get that every night for the rest of our lives.
