Play With Fire - Sheridan Anne Page 0,111

of the six of us at Ryan’s first day of school shows. Then another of us at the park, then on vacation at the lake with Coby up front on the motorbike she insisted she needed.

It’s literally our life in photos, and it’s absolutely beautiful.

The photos fade once again before words come up on the screen.

Angel, you are my world, my sunshine, my reason for breathing. The day you walked into my life, I knew you would be mine. You were my game changer.

The words fade before being replaced.

You’re the mother of my children, the love of my life, and the only person I want to share my future with. There’s something I’ve wanted to share with you since the moment I first laid eyes on you, and it’s about time we let you in on the secret.

Wait … I’m a cluey person, and I’m pretty sure I knew where this was leading, but that last bit completely threw me off. Secret? What secret? What on earth is he referring to? I know this guy inside and out, and he’s incapable of keeping any type of secret.

My wondering doesn’t last long as the next slide appears on the screen. It’s a picture of Bull down on one knee with a ring in his hand and a goofy, excited grin tearing across his handsome face. He wears a dark shirt with big, bold letters across the front reading, ‘Marry me, Angel.’

The tears keep flowing as my hand presses against my chest, but the picture quickly fades and is replaced by another. This time it’s a snapshot taken from that day at the beach, only it’s Bull with his back to the water, taking a selfie with us playing in the water over his right shoulder. The ring is held up to the camera and that same goofy grin on his face.

The photos keep coming, one after another. There’s a picture of the girls having a pretend wedding. Ryan is wearing a wedding dress made out of my good bed sheets, and Coby is draped in Bull’s suit jacket, which is dragging along the ground. The photo has Coby sliding a ring onto Ryan’s little finger, and as the photo zooms in, it’s as clear as day that it’s the same ring in the other photos.

There’s me asleep with the ring resting on my ass and Bull taking a selfie. There’s me cooking dinner in the background with Bull down on one knee and holding the ring out toward me. There’s the ring sitting in the center of my dining table, threaded through the stems of the flowers Bull had bought me that day, staring me right in the face as I sat before it.

I quickly realize that this is something Bull has been planning and wanting for a very long time. In fact, there must be at least a photo for each month spanning over the past few years. The earliest one I could find was during the later days of my pregnancy, telling me that even back then, he was certain that we would make it the distance.

As the slides come to an end, I realize there must be at least fifty pictures, but what’s more important is that my kids were in on this, and not one of them slipped up. There was even a picture of all four kids in matching outfits. I’d dressed them that day, yet somehow I’d missed the fact that on the back of each shirt was one word each. Will. You. Marry. Me. And just to be an idiot about it, Bull got himself a matching shirt and put the question mark on the back of his.

Though, I guess the question is, who was the one taking that picture?

How could I have been so blind to all of this? Was I just too busy being a mom or am I too distracted to notice what’s going on with my babies? I shake the thought from my head. That isn’t what this is about. I should be enjoying this with every tiny piece of my being.

The slides disappear and are replaced by a video of my four babies and seeing as though Coby has a chunk of hair missing from when she cut it off with the kitchen scissors, I know this video is as recent as just a few days ago. “Mommy,” Ryan starts with a slight panic. “Don’t be mad. Daddy has been making us keep a secret, and I know you

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