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Kit groans, tangling his fingers in my hair to tug at the strands.
I’m exhausted. Tired down to my marrow from all the recent sleepless nights and still recovering from giving birth a few weeks ago. But I feel utterly content, at peace and at ease in a way I’ve never experienced before. I don’t have everything figured out. And right now, I don’t feel like I need to. I can just sit in this moment, on a bench in the sunshine, and appreciate the warm press of Kit’s lips against mine.
He smiles when we separate, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that makes me wonder what Kit will look like in twenty years. Fifty.
“I would have said yes,” I whisper impulsively, “if you’d asked.”
Impossibly, Kit’s grin stretches wider. “Don’t ruin the surprise, Monty.” He pulls another box out of his pocket, this one long and narrow. “This one’s from Dylan.”
I glance at our son, still fast asleep. “Really?” I drawl.
“Uh-huh. One of his limited interests is jewelry shopping.”
I snort before opening the second box. It’s a necklace with a simple chain and one round charm hanging from it. There’s a tinyDimpressed into the surface, formed from more diamonds.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him, rubbing the surface of the charm with my thumb. The metal is smooth, the gemstones slightly textured. “You add more charms for each kid?”
“That’s the idea, I think. But it can be complete with just one.”
“I think I’d like two,” I say, studying it. “One looks a little lonely. But not for a couple of years. Or maybe longer.”
“We can wait as long as you want,” he tells me. “My hand could use some time to recover.”
“Yeah,yourbody was really the one that suffered during labor,” I say, lifting my hair and turning my head so he can clasp the necklace.
We stand and start to head back toward the tent where the graduation ceremony is taking place. Dylan wakes up halfway there, his adorable face scrunching as he fusses.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Kit tells him. “What are you complaining about? I wishIwere getting carried around in this cool contraption. And it’s way better than being stuck in Mom’s belly, right? Did you want to watch Aunt Jane graduate? You won’t get to if you keep crying. They’ll kick us out of the tent. Maybe off this campus because you have a crazy pair of lungs on you, Dyl.”
I’m smiling, listening to Kit talk when I hear my name called.
I turn, watching Professor Aldridge approach. She was my adviser for my music major. We kept in touch via email for several months after I graduated, but I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of years now. And the last time we talked, I was a full-time pianist. I’m sure she’ll be disappointed to hear that I’m no longer playing anything except lullabies.
“Hi, Professor Aldridge,” I greet.
It feels strange to call her Leslie now that we’re on much less familiar terms.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Collins,” she says, smiling.
“You too,” I reply.
“Are you back for graduation?”
I nod. “My sister’s.”
“That’s wonderful. How’s everything else? Are you still in Chicago?”
“I moved to New York last summer,” I tell her. “I needed a change.”
“In cities? Or jobs?”
“Both,” I admit. “I’m a paralegal at a law firm right now. Or I was. I’m on maternity leave at the moment.” I glance toward Kit. He’s paused with Dylan in the shade under a tree a little ways ahead, letting me have a moment. Mostly because Dylan is still crying and he’s having to bounce him around.
“Oh my,” Professor Aldridge says. “Your little one is adorable.”
I smile. “Thank you. We think so too.”
“Are you still playing?” she finally asks.