Page 37 of Unconditionally With Me

He leans down to press a kiss to my brow. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I respond, even as I’m dragging my purse closer to me. I pat the couch. “Now sit here and close your eyes.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re not going to put something gross in my hands, are you?”

“The icky parts come later,” I inform him, thinking of the way Trina’s kids would baptize those they loved with blown-out diapers or vomit over the years.

Warily, Julian sits.

“Now close your eyes,” I demand.

Reluctantly, he does so.

I take his hand and place the positive pregnancy test in it. “Okay, go ahead.”

His eyes immediately drop to his hand. It’s a nanosecond, less than a heartbeat, before he’s whispering, “How?”

“Apparently, IUDs aren’t…” I start, but he lays his fingers across my lips.

“I just meant how can our lives be more blessed? I thought we had everything, and then you’re giving me this gift?” His eyes are liquid, that swirl of dark chocolate fondue you want to dip into no matter how you try to resist.

At least I can’t.

I fling myself into his arms, sobbing. Julian falls backward, wrapping me up tight. I feel him shuddering beneath me as together we adjust our vision of the future from two to three to however many we’re now ready to accept into our hearts.

Because love is unconditional. And together we learned that no matter where you go, as long as you’re with the person you’re supposed to be with, the options are limitless.

In every way.

“Congratulations, Daddy,” I manage to get out, before Julian kisses me.

Eight months later, I somehow manage to whisper the same words to him again when he holds our twins for the first time, Doria Rachel and Karlson Jonas.

Every time I say them, it’s to watch our children as they move through each stage of their life: school, graduation, marriage.

Until one day, I say words that truly shake Julian. But all they are is a reflection of the blessings we’ve created together.

My hair is much more gray than red. And it’s a complete mess from running my hands through it all night in worry. Still, it’s my honor to be the first to lean over my husband’s shoulder and whisper, “Congratulations, Grandpa,” as he holds our first grandchild.

THE END