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Cash slaps his shoulder. “Yes, dummy. That’s why he put the ring on her finger.”

“That means you can’t give it to Arrow now,” Grady teases, shoving Cash.

He growls at his brother. “I don’t like that girl!”

While the boys tease, push and shove, Ridge pulls me on his lap. “Hey, dudes, we got something else to tell you.”

They both turn, and you can immediately tell they’re not sure what that means. Last time they heard those words, Austin told them he didn’t love me anymore and was moving out.

With the Christmas tree shimmering behind them, bright reds, greens, and blues contrasting against the worried sky-blue in their eyes, I start bawling and stare down at the ring on my finger.

How’d this happen? How’d I go from getting a divorce to getting engaged in the same year?

Ridge looks to me for approval, and when I nod, he’s about as giddy as the boys had just been. “Your mom is gonna have a baby.”

The boys don’t say anything at first. They really don’t need to say anything at all because their beaming smiles are enough.

“Really?” Grady asks. “We’re gonna be big brothers?”

“Cool.” Cash nods, then glares at Grady. “I’d like a sister this time.”

I’m an emotional shit show of tears while Ridge is the one holding it all together, like usual.

The boys move on pretty quickly to counting the presents under the tree. Ridge’s arms tighten around me, and I lean my back against his shoulder. He kisses my temple, his lips lingering as I lift my hand staring at the ring once again.

“I hope you like it. You’re never taking it off,” he teases, but we both know he’s not teasing.

“I love it and I love you.”

You’re in love with him too, aren’t you? Too bad. He’s all mine.

Everyone wants to fall in love. Why?

Because it’s the only experience in life where you feel completely alive. Everything inside you is heightened, every emotion magnified. It may only last a moment, a night, an hour, an afternoon, but it doesn’t discount the value of falling.

“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes tender and bright. I want this look for the next sixty years.

After my divorce, I felt unloved, unwanted, undeniably broken. I took comfort in knowing starting over wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need.

Love’s complicated. It’s not meant to be perfect.