about the whole moving in part. What do you think?”
I consider his proposition, but it doesn’t take me long to jump on board. He’s right. I love him. What else matters? And who cares what other people think? I want to spend the rest of my life with this man by my side, a few little kids toddling around, and even a pet pig.
But I’ll still settle for a dog if I have to.
“So?” he presses, looking anxious and adorable at the same time. I stride toward him and kiss him softly.
“I think I’d like that, Ben. I think I’d like it a lot.”
Epilogue
Ben
“Daddy!” Sydney calls as she pitter-patters down the hall toward the master bedroom. My mouth stretches into a warm smile. The title never gets old.
After mowing the lawn, I hopped in the shower to clean up for tonight, but I should’ve known my privacy was finite. As I slide a T-shirt over my head, my daughter skids into the room and starts bouncing on our bed.
“They’re coming! They’re coming! They’re coming!” she squeals. Her little body can only handle so much excitement, and a visit from her best friend is almost more than she can bear.
“Did Mom say when Stella would be here?” I ask her.
“In twenty-nine minutes.”
I laugh. “Are you sure it’s not twenty-eight yet?”
“Mom put a timer on her phone. I just checked it,” she answers matter-of-factly. That girl is way too smart for her own good.
“Sydney Kate Bennett!” Marcy yells from the main floor of our home, interrupting Sydney’s impromptu jump session. We both freeze as she gives me a panicked look.
“Did you remember to feed Penelope?” I whisper conspiratorially.
Her eyes widen in fear. “Uh, oh.”
Marcy’s order makes the house shake as she adds, “Get your cute butt down here, missy!”
“Coming!” Sydney returns. Her braided pigtails flip through the air as she leaps into my arms without waiting for an invitation. Thankfully, this isn’t my first rodeo with her jumping on the bed, and I’m ready to catch her.
Oomph.
“What’s your mama feeding you? You’re getting too big, Syd!”
Beaming with pride, she wraps her tiny arms around my neck and squeezes me with every fiber of her being. “Mom feeds me cereal and fruit snacks.”
I bite my tongue to keep from laughing. “Good point. I guess I only have myself to blame for feeding you healthy, nutritious food that’s making you grow up too fast. I’m going to have to start slipping anti-growth pills in your dinner from now on. Now, go feed the pig before your mom comes upstairs looking for you.”
“Fiiine,” she whines. Her tiny feet skip out of the room and down the stairs while I take a moment to collect myself.
It’s September 18th.
The years seem to fly by faster and faster, then come to a screeching halt on days like today when memories of my previous life rise to the surface until I’m left with whiplash.
My eyes find the wedding photo that Marcy had framed for me, insisting I put it somewhere to remember Kate. It’s a small 5x7 photograph that rests on the dresser in our room. When we moved in together, she found the room I’d filled with storage boxes that were full of Kate’s belongings. She spent hours going through each of them with me. The clothing. The old stuffed animals from Kate’s childhood. The prom pictures. All of it. When she found Kate’s lemon-printed apron, she held it to her chest and wept.
I never expected my second wife to be so accepting of my first. Sometimes, it feels like I’ve lived two separate lives until Marcy clears away the haze and reminds me that it’s okay to find happiness in both of them.
Sometimes, I still can’t believe Marcy gave me a chance. That she has the patience to put up with me. That she’s so accepting of my past and the love I still have for Kate. Hell, Marcy even insisted on naming our daughter after her. She really is a saint.
Gliding my finger across the simple black frame, I take in the happy expressions that shine back at me from my first wedding.
Kate and I were so young when we got married. So naive about what life had in store for us. Sometimes, I still feel naive when it comes to life. On more than one occasion, Marcy has had to remind me that she’s okay. That our daughter, Sydney Kate, is okay. That the little boy in her swelling stomach is okay. That life is