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4 YEARS LATER
The bed is cold. He’s not here.
I groan and sit up, rubbing at my tired eyes as I blink through the darkness.
I fumble with my robe and pull it on, moving through the small house in search of my husband. And of course, I find him, sprawled out on the ground of our youngest’s room, one hand in the crib he’d built holding onto baby Lucy’s hand, the other wrapped around our oldest son, Kieran.
They’re all fast asleep and I clutch at my chest at the sight.
Could I have gotten any luckier?
How is this my life?
Sem took to being a dad like I knew he would. He’s loyal, protective, and loving. A little bit wild, but he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to them and I couldn’t be prouder of the man he’s become.
I still have visions of more children, our house filled with the sounds of laughter. Sem’s open to it. He mentions it at night sometimes when I crawl into his arms and press myself against him.
He now knows he deserves this. That he deserves me. There was never any doubt in my mind that he did. But that’s the thing with relationships, isn’t it? You commit to a person, love them through their growth and cheer them on. You walk with them side-by-side through their struggles and celebrate the small triumphs.
I’ve watched Sem come to love himself.
I’m so glad I didn’t give up on him.
I grab a blanket and crawl up Sem’s chest.
“Maggie,” he mutters when I tuck myself against his neck. His strong arm wraps around my torso and holds me to him tightly.
“Love you,” I whisper, not wanting to wake anyone.
“Love you more.”
