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Gerard had insisted that we should at least consider expanding our family, and so I begrudgingly went to an adoption event withhim. I knew that resistance was futile when he set his mind to something.

We walked into a room filled with bright balloons, streamers, and the excited chatter of children. Kids of all ages, from chubby-cheeked toddlers to gangly preteens, darted about with wide eyes full of hope and longing for a family to call their own.

That’s when I saw him. A little boy, no older than three, with a mop of blond curls and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. He was sitting quietly in the corner, clutching a worn teddy bear and watching the commotion with a solemn expression.

Gerard noticed him, too.

As if sensing our gaze, the boy glanced up, and our eyes locked. Something inside me shifted. A piece of my heart that I didn’t know existed suddenly made itself known, clicking into place.

Gerard tugged me forward, and we knelt in front of the boy.

“Hi there,” Gerard said softly. “I’m Gerard, and this is my fiancée, Elliot. What’s your name?”

The boy hugged his bear tighter, and his little chin wobbled as he whispered, “Gunnar.”

Gerard’s face split into a grin. “Gunnar? That’s an awesome name! I wish my name were that cool.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Gunnar’s face. “Really?”

“Totally!” Gerard enthused. “I bet you’re super brave and strong, just like your name.”

Gunnar ducked his head shyly, but I could see the pleased flush on his cheeks.

I cleared my throat, finally finding my voice. “Gunnar, would you like to come home with us? We promise to love you and take care of you always.”

Those luminous blue eyes met mine, searching, hoping.

“Forever?” His voice sounded so small and uncertain that it cracked my heart wide open.

“Forever and ever,” I vowed.

“Okay,” he whispered.

And just like that, our family was complete.

Of course, Gerard was over the moon that our son’s name was Gunnar.

“Gunnar Gunnarson,” he kept saying, rolling the name around on his tongue like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. “It’s perfect!”

I, on the other hand, was not as thrilled. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the name Gunnar. But the alliteration was a bit much for me. I could already picture the endless teasing and nicknames he’d endure on the playground.

“Maybe we should change it,” I suggested tentatively one night as we lay in bed with Gunnar snuggled between us. “Something a little less…tongue-twisty?”

Gerard’s head snapped up, his brows knitting together. “Change it? Absolutely not! Gunnar Gunnarson is his name, and that’s final.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the fierce determination in Gerard’s eyes made me pause. This clearly meant a lot to him. And truthfully, seeing the joy radiating from him every time he said our son’s name was enough to melt my reservations.

So, Gunnar Gunnarson he remained. And as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I couldn’t imagine him being called anything else. It suited him perfectly, just like Gerard said.

Watching Gunnar grow and thrive under our love and care has been the greatest privilege of my life. Every milestone, every giggle, every “I love you, Daddy” is permanently etched into my heart.

And the bond he shares with Gerard? It’s something truly special to behold. They’re thick as thieves, always conspiring and adventuring together. Gunnar follows Gerard around like a shadow, soaking up every word and imitating his every move.

It’s uncanny, really, how much Gunnar resembles Gerard. From the unruly blond curls that refuse to be tamed to themischievous glint in those cerulean eyes, he’s a mini Gerard through and through.

He even has the same infectious grin that makes you want to smile right back.

Sometimes, I catch myself staring at the two of them, marveling at the miracle of it all.

How did I get so lucky to have not one but two gorgeous blond-haired, blue-eyed boys to call my own?It’s like the universe knew exactly what my heart needed and delivered it to me in spades.

Sure, Gunnar may not share our DNA, but he’s ours in every way that matters.

And watching him grow into a spitting image of the man I love most in this world?

Well, that’s just the icing on the cake.