Page 56

Five months later…

I stare down at the piece of plastic that’s trembling in my hand, heart thudding so hard I can feel it in my teeth. One bold pink line and another, just beneath it. It’s faint, but there’s no mistaking it.

Positive.

A smile breaks across my face before I even realize it’s happening.

Wide and breathless and a little stunned.

I slap my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the disbelieving laugh that slips out.

My eyes sting, but it’s not from fear or nerves.

It’s awe. It’s joy so deep I don’t know how to hold it all at once because it’s actually happening.

“Hey Regan, it’s time!” Lydia calls from just outside the bathroom door, her voice bright and excited.

It’s our house now—mine and Hayes’s. Not the hotel room where we first collided, but the one where we reconnected and healed.

Where we rebuilt. Where we fell in love in quiet, steady moments—over coffee mugs, shared showers, lazy mornings with horses grazing outside our bedroom window and a lot of hard work.

And now… a baby. Something we’ve been talking about, praying for, and hoping would happen for months now.

“I’m coming!” I call, my voice cracking just a little.

I shove the test behind the cleaning supplies under the sink and toss a folded towel over it like that’ll somehow hold back the flood of emotion inside me.

There’s no way I’ll be able to keep this from Hayes for long.

Not today. Not on the day of our real wedding.

Our third, but the one that finally feels real.

I smooth my hands down the front of my dress, taking in every little detail.

It’s not the one I wore last time; I wanted something different.

This one feels more like me and less like I’m performing.

Romantic, bare-backed, sheer sleeves that kiss my wrists, and a bodice that dips low over my chest. The fabric brushes the tops of my toes, and I’m barefoot, just like I wanted to be.

October air drifts in through the open window—cool and crisp and filled with woodsmoke and autumn. My hair’s twisted up in a soft, low bun, tendrils curling around my face, and I feel beautiful . Not for the dress or the hair, but because of what today means for my family.

I’m carrying a piece of Hayes inside me. And today, I’ll say vows I’ve whispered to him in the dark, under stars, over morning coffee, through the months of relearning each other. Words we’ve lived long before we ever said them.

Outside, my dad waits with a patient smile, his posture a little slower these days, but still stubborn as ever to keep up with his grandkids.

He grins when he sees me. “Somehow you get more beautiful every time we do this,” he says with a wink. “But let’s not push our luck with a fourth wedding, alright?”

I laugh and loop my arm through his. “Okay, Dad.”

He squeezes my fingers and rests his head briefly against the side of mine. “Let’s get you married again, sweetheart.”

We step outside, and the scene stills me.

Sunlight glints off the pond where I spent so many long afternoons talking with Mrs. Mayberry on the swing that still creaks in the breeze.

I swear I can feel her presence here today, hovering just beyond the trees, smiling that knowing smile like she knew this was how things would end all along.

That Hayes and I were meant for more than a marriage of convenience.

Sometimes, I wonder if that stipulation in the property deed even existed.

Hayes waits by the edge of the pond; hands folded in front of him. His eyes lock on mine the second I step into view. His mouth tips up, just slightly into a smile, but his eyes are wet. He swipes his tongue across his lower lip like he’s trying to keep it together, but I can feel him unraveling.

My twin brother Colt stands beside him, tall and proud. They’ve made up over the past few months. After months of Colt helping at the barn with his new horses, they’ve come to some sort of quiet agreement, and I’ve even heard Hayes pull a laugh out of my twin a few times.

My other brothers and their partners—people who’ve become my best friends—sit in folding chairs placed in a wide circle around the pond.

Lydia’s in the front row, tears already welling in her eyes.

This wedding isn’t flashy. It’s not formal.

But it’s our first real one the way we want it and it’s perfect.

Our town’s reverend, Lydia’s father, beams at me from his spot beside Hayes. He’s done this before for us, but this one’s different.

Hayes steps toward me before the ceremony even begins, threading his arms around my waist and pulling me in. He kisses me, soft and sure, and when we break apart, Cash lets out a loud whoop while Rae hollers out, “Well, hell yeah then!”

The small crowd laughs, and then the world stills.

Hayes’s hands stay on my hips as the reverend begins, talking about second chances, fresh starts, and the kind of love you grow into. Love that deepens with every stumble, every triumph, every ordinary moment spent choosing each other again.

I can’t look away from Hayes. His eyes stay locked on mine; his gaze so tender it undoes me.

When he pulls out his handwritten vows, I see the tremble in his fingers.

His voice is thick as he speaks about all the things I’ve changed his mind about.

About the ways that he’s healed even in his older age when he thought it wasn’t possible for him.

About the tender love that I’ve shown him that he didn’t think he was worthy of.

Promises not just for today, but for every tomorrow.

Promises I once wondered I’d ever hear from a man.

But Hayes isn’t just any man. He’s mine.

When it’s my turn to speak, I don’t hold back.

I tell him what he already knows but still deserves to hear.

How I’ll stand by him through every storm, love him fiercely and quietly, and mother our children with the same steady devotion stitched into every part of me.

How we’ll grow old together on our land watching them play.

His brows lift, not in surprise, but like something’s just clicked into place. His lips part slightly. And when we’re pronounced husband and wife again, he kisses me harder, deeper this time, while our family cheers.

He pulls me close, buries his face in my neck, and murmurs so only I can hear, “Are you pregnant, sweetheart?”

I smile into his shoulder. “Yeah.”

And then he kisses me like a man who’s just been handed everything he’s ever wanted.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed Regan and Hayes story!