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I’ve never had so much fun walking down a red carpet as that night. And Nick looked hotter than any other guy at the premiere, in his dark tux, his hair gelled, and a hip, scruffy beard on his jawline. That was thanks to a confiscated razor at the airport, and our mutual failure to buy him a new one, but the look really worked for him. He even got pegged as a celebrity actor once—a fact I’m still razzing him for to this day.
When the room lights dim, it catches me by surprise. At first, I wonder if we have a bulb out. I start conjuring images of a tall ladder in the middle of the room. Changing bulbs around here is no small matter, thanks to how high some of the ceilings are.
But no, there’s no bulb out.
This is my husband, surprising me yet again with another romantic gesture. He stoops over the coffee table and lights a row of white pillar candles, one by one. When he uncorks a bottle of our favorite kind of sparkling cider, I feel a rush of gratitude.
“You spoil me, you know that?”
“You deserve it. For intermission, brownies.”
“Gooey centers?”
“You know it.”
“If you get bored, we’ll watch something else.”
“Are you kidding me?” He settles onto the couch and pulls me close. “There is no way I’m going to get bored. This movie is spectacular. I can’t believe I get to sit here with the womanwho wrote it. The only thing that could be better right now is if Stanford Moss would get back to Clint about the next one.”
I bite my lip.
He tilts his face to read my gesture. “No way.”
“Yep… Clint called me while you were giving Lily her bath.” I resist the urge to squeal with the excitement that’s bubbling up inside me. “Stanford loved it. They’re offering more this time, too.”
“Babe, that’s fantastic!” Nick says, keeping his excitement hushed, like I am. “Congratulations. Now I’m really glad I bought some bubbly.” He reaches for the glasses he poured and hands one over to me.
As we clink glasses, I try not to blink. I don’t want to miss even a millisecond of this perfection—sitting on this couch, with Nick beside me, our daughter upstairs and another child on the way.
The room around us glows with the warm, flickering light of the candles. Our home feels so filled with love. It’s hard to believe that I once sat on this very couch, crying with angst. Now I can look back on those hard times with a smile, knowing that each and every stumbling block led me to this exact moment.
I love Nick more and more, each and every morning that I wake up in our bed with him next to me.
I love our home, and our life together.
I love writing in the upstairs office, and even the nail-biting virtual meetings I endure with the people I still work with in LA.
I love my kooky neighbors here on State Street, and my weekend mornings at the diner with my entire family and the silly one-liners they toss around. I’ve started saluting customers now and then, like my grandfather. Waving a spatula, like Grandma Lottie. And asking people “What’s the buzz?” like it’s a normal thing to say. Usually, the question earns me an earful of gossip, and I’m starting to like that, too.
Nick and I clink glasses. “Cheers, baby. Another one in the books. May there be many more to come.”
“Cheers.” I take my first sip of crisp, sweet, sparkling cider.
Nick reaches for the remote. “Ready?” he asks, his finger poised over the play button.
I nod, then curl up next to him, snuggling as close as I can.
He wraps his arm around me and holds me tight. Right now, I have everything I could possibly ask for. “Thank you,” I whisper to him.
“For what?”
“For loving me like you do.”
He kisses the top of my head. “You make it easy, Maddie.”
THE END…
