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“I missed you both so much,” she says, her voice muffled against my back.

I turn in her arms and take her in–she’s changed into one of my flannels and soft sleep shorts.

“We missed you too. I especially missed you in these.” I run my hand down her backside, fingertips slipping just beneath the waistband.

“Oh no, Mr. Beckett.” Her tone is teasing. “You stay away from my shorts. These are only coming off the right way.” I raise an eyebrow. “And what’s the right way?”

“Not being ripped off my body like a caveman.” She loops her arms around my neck, and my hands rest gently on the small of her back.

I lean in, not quite kissing her yet, letting our noses brush.

Her eyes flutter closed as she steps closer, melting into me.

“Let’s get you fed,” I murmured against her lips.

“Then I’m taking you to bed.” She whimpers softly, and I smile.

“Our girl requested that you have the middle slice.”

“She knows me so well.”

She really does.

“Alright, Room 12, let’s line up for recess!

” I call out clapping my hands two times as I walk to the door.

With my students lined up, I led my students out to the playground.

This week, I’ve got yard duty alongside three other teachers.

Sliding on my sunglasses, I spot Sadie as I step through the double doors–she’s on the field playing mush ball with her friends.

She’s up to bat and smacks the hell out of it.

The ball soars past the pitcher, and Sadie makes it to first base with ease.

Cupping my hands on the side of my mouth, I shout, “Go Sadie!” Her head whips towards me, and the moment she sees me, she waves excitedly.

“Mr. Beckett! Come play with us!”

“You can bat next!” A couple students shout out as I make my way to the baseball diamond. I wore my vans today in case a student wanted to toss a football or wanted to hopscotch with me–yard duty ready.

Jonah, one of Caleb’s first graders, hands me the metal bat.

I give it a quick once-over–pretty decent for a school-issued set.

Austin, the kids who ate chocolate milk spaghetti, is pitching.

I step into the batter’s box and catch Sadie giggling out of the corner of my eye.

I glance over and wink at her. She waves and gets into the ready stance.

Austin’s got a mischievous grin from the pitcher’s mound. He glances at Sadie, then at Kelsey on third base, and I can tell–he thinks he can strike me out. When the first pitch comes, I swing with theatrical effort and miss miserably. The kids burst into laughter.

The catcher tosses the mush ball back, and Austin readies again. This time, he underhanded it, and I swing upwards–crack–making contact. If you’ve ever played with one of these things, you know how tough it is to get it past the infield, but I managed to send it into centerfield.

I take off toward first. Sadie’s feet are flying, her hair whipping behind her as she rounds second, giggling uncontrollably. I make it to third just as she does, and I scoop her up by her underarms.

“Come on, Sadie Girl! We gotta run!”

Her feet dangle as she laughs even harder, and I carry her, both of us sprinting toward home plate.

A crowd has gathered by the backstop, cheering and shouting.

The catcher nearly tags us out, but the ball slips from his glove.

Groans mix with claps and cheers as Kelsey, Sadie, and I all score.

A new batter steps up and sends the next ball past shortstop–we’ve got a rally on our hands.

Breathless, I rest my hands on top of my head and take a deep inhale. I turn–and there she is.

Dayna.

Standing under the shade of a tree with Principal McKenna beside her, watching the game unfold. Her eye–my favorite shade of warm whiskey–locked onto mine. I lift my sunglasses and wink before sliding them back down. Sadie spots her and bolts.

“Momma! Did you see us? Daddy hit a home run, and we scored!” The world tilts again–just like it did the first time.

She called her Momma. And at school . Dayna’s smile doesn’t hesitate; it blooms across her face without a second of a doubt.

She crouches down in her heels, arms open wide, waiting for our girl.

“I did, I saw everything Sweet Girl, you were amazing!” Dayna says as she tucks a loose curl back into Sadie’s lopsided ponytail.

Sadie wraps her arms around Dayna just for a second and plants a kiss on her cheek.

“Sadie! It’s your turn!” A kid shouts from behind us.

“Oh! They need me. Love you!” She takes off running, ponytail bouncing behind her.

I watch Sadie run back to the field, full of bounce and joy, as if calling Dayna “Momma” had always been part of her vocabulary. Like it wasn’t new. Like it wasn’t a shift. But I feel it. God–do I feel it.

Dayna stands as she keeps her eyes on Sadie, her hands wrapping around herself.

I walk toward her, each step filled with certainty than the last. When I reach her, her eyes flick to mine.

Closing the gap I slide my arm around her waist and tug her in closely.

“You okay?” I ask into the top of her hair as I lean my head on hers.

She wraps her arm around my lower waist, as we stand side by side.

“I’m more than okay. I just…I didn’t think I’d ever get to be someone’s Momma. ”

“You didn’t get to be, Dayna. You are . Not because of me. Because of her .” She nods into me, and I feel her–deep, and full of something she’s probably been carrying for a long time.

We stand here for a minute, beneath a tree, beside a playground surrounded by the echoes of kids playing and life moving forward. I know, without question, that this is the moment I’ll think of when I ask her to marry me.

Back in my classroom, I turn the AC on as soon as we walk in.

The mornings are cold but the afternoon sun is getting hotter.

After recess, I have my students silently read for ten minutes to cool down.

Some of my students are lined up to refill their water bottles and I take a sip from my water tumbler.

Dayna didn’t give me an option when she bought this for me.

She said I needed to keep myself hydrated, I never felt more thankful for ice water as I do now.

My students have settled into their desks and brought out their book of choice.

I take this time to prepare for our next lesson.

We’re going to dip into fractions and decimals.

If I’m being honest, math is my favorite subject.

My old school, I’d have them make instant pudding pie and have the students cut their pies according to the fraction they draw from a hat.

It’s messy, but it’s fun and definitely memorable.

Even with fractions being my favorite math unit, it can’t compete with what’s on my mind.

As the minutes pass, the question I want to ask settles heavier on my heart–steady and certain.

I know I want to marry Dayna. That part is easy.

But when it comes to choosing the ring? I need help.

There are two people in this world I trust to help me get it right.

One who I know loves her like a sister. One who knows her almost as well as I do.

Liam and Cara.

I sit at my desk, the classroom quiet, filled with the sound of pages turning, the AC unit humming in the background.

I open my top desk drawer, and before I reach for my phone, before I say it out loud to anyone else–I pull out my wallet.

Inside is a small photo: Juliette holding newborn Sadie, both of them wrapped in warmth. My heart aches…and settles all at once.

Thank you, Juliette .

For Sadie, for everything .

And I hope you know how much you still mean to me. In my heart, I know you would have wanted this for us. For Sadie. We were put on this path for a reason and we’re going to be okay. I love you, always.

I take a deep breath and pull my phone out. I open my text messages and make a group chat. Adding the two people I know will help me get this right.

I’m gonna ask Dayna to marry me. Sadie Girl is on board with everything.

Liam: Holy Shit!

Liam: Warn a guy before he walks into a courthouse, just rammed my shoulder into the metal detector.

Liam: This is the best news!

Cara: LUKE! What the fuck. I can’t cry in front of a bunch of fifth graders–they’ll roast the living shit out of me.

Cara: I can’t believe you even waited this long to ask her.

I know. That’s why I need your help. I have a ring in mind but I want to be sure it’s the right one.

Cara: RING SHOPPING!?

Cara: I am SO there!

Liam: I’ll be in town next week.

Liam: When are you planning on asking the question?

Liam: Where are you planning on asking?

During the Student & Staff Basketball game Friday. Thinking center court.

Cara: We need a ring like yesterday!

Liam: Fuck it. I’m moving up my trip. I’ll be there by tomorrow morning.

I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the both of you. I’m reaching out to her parents too. This needs to be special. She deserves nothing less than perfect.