Page 66 of His to Love

“I do.” He looked at me straight in the eyes as he pulled to the side of the road. “I was there with you through the whole pregnancy. I was there when he was born. And I’ve been there every day, every night, through the feedings every two hours. That boy is my son. And no one had better ever say anything different.”

Finally, I relaxed and smiled at my husband, the love of my life. “Of course. You make me so happy, mi amor.”

“You make me happy too.” He took my hand, kissing it softly. “You know something, babe?”

“What?” I couldn’t stop looking at my gorgeous husband with his sparkling eyes.

“I think we’ll find our happily ever after whether we have more children or not. I love you. My life is with you. And that’s all that really matters.”

“I feel the same way.”

And with that, we went on our date as planned. No pressure. No worries. No fears that my husband felt short-changed in any way by our son not being his biological child.

One month later, I was cleaning the bathroom that my husband and I shared. Pulling open the cabinet door to clean underneath the sink, I noticed an unopened box of feminine products. Products that I should’ve used by now.

Turning around, I ran to the medicine cabinet to see if I had any pregnancy tests left and found only one sitting there on the shelf. A few minutes later, I ran through the house, waving the pink stick with a plus sign as I went. “Patton! Mi amor! We’re pregnant! We’re going to have another baby!”

And now we will live happily ever after.

The End

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Standing in a lobby full of people, bouncing auburn curls catch my eyes. As they slip through the crowd, green eyes peer out at me. My heart races, my body heats, and I can’t stop looking into those eyes—they captivate me.

The relationship was doomed from the start. She’s only here for a week. Long enough to have some fun—short enough for no real feelings to start taking form.

Or so I thought.

Our connection is intense. Our love, undeniable. Our ending, inevitable.

But she belongs with her family in Ireland. And I belong with mine in Texas. With a business to run, there’s no way I can leave. With a family who needs her, there’s no way she can stay.

But my heart still aches for her after so many months apart. And I have to wonder if hers aches for me as well.

Maybe there is a way for us to be together. I’m not an ignorant man. After all, I can think of some way for us to be together. Memories of her won’t stop calling to me. I have to take a chance—for us