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“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

I nod, but my chin quivers.

He asks, “Is this too much?”

My heart lurches with panic. “No. No, it's not. I just I feel really full.”

His lips quirk, but he doesn't quite laugh. “You are full.”

I laugh around a sob. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“But it’s true.” He kisses me. A light, soft touch of his lips to mine. “You're allowed to feel everything that you're feeling. I'll never hold anything against you. Ever.”

I let my eyes drift closed as Tate pulls from my body slowly. He wraps me up in his arms, and he holds me. He holds me until the storm inside me settles. Until the waves that crashed violently against my heart settle into a stillness, a calmness, a reprieve.

We lay in silence, with the cake still on the bed, for what feels like a beautiful eternity until Tate shifts behind me.

“What do you say we take a shower?”

I glance over my shoulder at him. Suddenly, I want nothing more.

“Together?”

He grins that roguish grin that is so handsome. “Is there any other way?”

I grin, deciding I’ll surprise him with his second gift later.

29

MY LIFE

AUGUST 2013 – 24 YEARS OLD

“Do you like your new room?” I lay back beside Owen in his big boy bed. We ditched the toddler bed when we said goodbye to the apartment. Now, Owen is kicking it back in a twin bed with dinosaur sheets. He hugs his alligator teddy bear as he gives me a toothy grin.

“It’s the best!”

“Yeah.” I eye the blue walls that were once Holt’s. Faye hadn’t been willing to paint over it, and Owen didn’t fuss about the color, so neither did I.

I know there’s a piece of her that fears painting over these walls would be like painting over Holt’s place in our lives…again.

I get it.

“This was my little brother’s room,” I tell my son.

Owen’s eyes get big as he looks around his room again. We moved into the house last week, but this is the first night Owen felt ready to sleep in his new bed in his new, big boy room.

His big brown eyes settle on me. “Will I have a little brother one day, Daddy? Like you?”

The hope in his question crushes that tender piece of my heart that holds foolish hope that one day I’ll have my own brother back.

I rest my head on my arm as my eyes drift to the popcorn that dots his ceiling. “Oh, you never know.” I grin conspiratorially, pride filling me when Owen matches my grin. I lower my voice, “We’ll have to get Mommy on board first.”

“We can do that.” Excitement flashes in his eyes and he shifts to face me. “How do we do that?”

“Well, you do know, it’s never a guarantee that the baby would be a boy.”

“So…” His little face scrunches. “I might get a sister?”