Page 204 of Headstrong Like Us

I have trouble tearing my gaze away from Farrow and our son and the puppy that suddenly hops further ahead and out of sight.

Farrow whistles and our dog runs back to us.

I think a lot.

I think about how today is my twenty-fourth birthday.

I think about how I fear a life where I don’t grow old, more than I fear getting older. And more than anything, I want to grow old with him.

With my husband.

And our son.

I think about them.

I have a family.I have a family when I didn’t even think I’d fall in love. And we’re all together on a simple, beautiful day.

My pulse is on an exultant ascent, bliss pouring through my veins as we reach the clearing on the ridge. We meet expansive views of the mountain range and bright blue July sky.

A hawk slices through the air. “You see that bird, Rip?” I point.

He gapes up at the world.

You know Ripley Keene Hale as the seven-month-old baby to me and Farrow, my bodyguard-turned-husband. You’ve seen Ripley become attached to a yellow pirate parrot and be a little trooper in front of the media, and you love when all three of us are together. You’ve created Tumblr pages and fan accounts dedicated to our family.

I know him as my son. He cries when both of his dads leave the room. He hates vegetables but loves most fruit, especially applesauce. When he’s sad, he likes when I rock him to sleep in my arms, and he acts like Farrow isn’t his favorite—but I know he loves him, like epic kind of love.

Fair Warning: if you fuck with our son, we’ll wipe you from the face of existence.

It takes me a second to look away from Ripley. But I sweep the sky one more time, breathing in the crisp air.

And Farrow smiles over at me, a drop dead gorgeous one.

My heart is so damn full. “You think Ripley will be more like you or me?”

“Both.” He bites on a camelbak spout, lips quirked. “I have a feeling he’ll be headstrong like us.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “I think he’s already there.” I eye Farrow more.My husband.Christ—my brain is never going to get over that. “Need a break?” I ask him and gesture to our baby on his back.

“Not yet, wolf scout.” He’s still smiling. “I’m waiting for you to point something else out to our son.”

I near him. “There’s the sky.”

“Wrong thing.” He catches my hand, our fingers instinctively threading.

I feign confusion. “Has to be the trees, then.”

“Not your little trees.”

I gesture to his chest. “Then it’s you. The guy who loves to irritate the fuck out of me.”

“He already knows me, but good air-ball. Throw again.” His eyes stroke mine in loving affection.

I know exactly what to point out. The significance of this place.

And maybe I should say the words to Ripley, but in this moment, I can’t look away from my husband, our eyes already welling. “This is where we saidI love youfor the first time.”

His smile stretches from cheek-to-cheek, and he holds my face with two hands. Breathing life into my lungs. I clutch the crook of his neck as Farrow whispers into a kiss, “And I’ll always love you, wolf scout.”

I’ve never been happier.

Never loved stronger or more.