Page 41

“What did you wish for?” Colby asked.
“That we’ll always be happy like this,” Luca said simply. “And that we can have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.”
I laughed despite the tears in my eyes. “I think both of those wishes can come true.”
As we sat there on our back steps, watching fireflies dance in our yard while our son caught magic in his hands, I knew his wish had already come true. We were happy. We were together. And most importantly, we were here by choice.
Six months ago, I’d been terrified of loving too much, of wanting something I might lose. Now I understood that the only real tragedy would have been missing this, missing the chance to be part of something bigger than myself, to love and be loved completely, to build a family from choice and commitment and the simple decision to show up for each other every single day.
“I love you,” I said to both of them, and felt the truth of it settle into my bones like a promise I intended to keep forever.
“We love you too,” Luca said, settling between us on the steps.
And as the stars emerged above our house, above our family, above the life we’d built together one careful choice at a time, I finally understood what home really meant.
It meant this.
It meant us.
It meant knowing that no matter what tomorrow brought, we’d face it together.
The temporary wife had become something permanent, something real, something chosen.
And it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever been part of.