Live, Laugh, Loathe

Epilogue

Two Years Later

Drew

"Mommy!" I turn from the mirror to find Sofia charging for me at full speed, with what looks like a marker in her hand. Everyone in the room lurches for the toddler. Carly manages to grab her and gently remove the marker from her hand before releasing her to continue running directly into my legs.

Toddlers are weirdly strong, and I'm barely able to remain standing.

"Hi, my sweet girl. Give mommy one second, and then I can pick you up." She huffs, an adorable frown on her face, but she patiently waits. We're about fifty-fifty on her ability to be patient when she's excited. But she's two, so that's normal. I turn to Francine, who finishes buttoning the back of my dress.

I'm getting married today.

I know, I know. Married? Why bother after having a kid, right? Well, Damon and I originally were fine with not getting married. That is until about a year ago when I got a call from our pediatrician's office and was called Mrs. Martinez by the receptionist.

Damon found me on the floor sobbing. Turns out, I subconsciously really did want to get married and finally let go of the final piece of ownership I felt my father had over me. We did discuss just changing my last name, but that felt weird. Wrong somehow? Because it wasn't just about changing my last name but the symbolism of taking Damon's last name. I don't really know how to explain it beyond that I wanted some special way to recognize that my father no longer had power over me, that Damon, Sofia, and I are a family. Even though he's long dead, I want to erase these last vestiges of my connection to him.

When I finally stopped crying and told him, he fucking laughed, then pulled out the ring he'd been hiding from me since Sofia was born. Apparently, we were both faking it when we said we didn't need to get married.

So here we are, at our house in the Finger Lakes, surrounded by our family about the get married.

As soon as Francie is done with my dress, I scoop up my baby girl. She's already dressed in the bubblegum pink princess dress she picked. Her adorable baby ringlets swept up in a small ponytail at the top of her head. She instantly snuggles into my chest, fingering the neckline of my wedding dress.

A few minutes later, the officiant comes by to remind us it's time for the guests to take their seats. We decided to not have a wedding party, so I meet Damon at the end of the aisle, still holding Sofia, while our family gets into place.

Carly and Francine are here, and so are my mom and Olivia. My other sisters are still on Irene's side and refuse to speak to me. But that's ok, I know my truth, and I have plenty of family to lean on. I don't need their validation. Max, Rachel, and Collin are here, too, along with Danny and Richard. Matt and Diane smile from their seats next to Matilda and her husband, Lorenzo. There's so much love in our backyard right now; it's almost overwhelming.

The cellist starts playing, signaling the start of our little ceremony. I set Sofia down and hold onto one of her hands; Damon has the other. The three of us walking down the aisle together, ending in front of the officiant. Damon and I then join hands, closing our little family circle. We have about ten minutes before Sofia or Max begin to whine, so we keep it short.

The officiant gives his short speech, we exchange our vows. I cry. Damon cries. Everyone in attendance cries. It's just an all-around cryfest. It's wonderful. And then boom, we're married.

It's now the first dance, and we've completely lost Sofia's attention by this point. She and Max are down for naps with the sitter, so it was good timing. Damon and I dance slowly, my head resting on his shoulder. "So, how does it feel to officially be Mrs. Martinez?"

I tip my head back to look into his face. The corner of his eyes crinkle with his smile. "It feels right. Like I've been waiting my whole life to make this official."

"Good, because there's no going back."

"You're stuck with me now," I whisper, pulling his face down to mine.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He closes the gap between our lips as our family cheers. Then the song changes, and everyone joins us on the dance floor.

I don't think I could have asked for a more perfect day.

Two More Years Later

Damon

Drew's eye is twitching, and that's never a good sign.

In front of us are three tests lined up neatly on our bathroom counter.

I know what they're going to say. Drew does too. But we're both a little in denial, so we wait. A few minutes later, the timer goes off, and there it is, clear as day.

Pregnant.

"This is your fault, Damon!"

"Hey! That's not fair; we both knew what we agreed to when we made that bet."

"Oh yeah, because betting me you could get me pregnant before you had your vasectomy and then taking me on a three-day sex vacation was really fair! Don't you dare pretend you didn't realize I was ovulating that weekend!"

I can't help but feel a pang of pride. I sure as hell did that, and I won. Since Drew can't take hormonal birth control, we've been using cycle tracking to avoid pregnancy. But as Sofia gets older, we both decided we either wanted a second kid or be done. After growing up with such a large gap between her and her sisters, Drew was adamant that she didn't want more than a five-year gap between our kids. So, I scheduled a vasectomy, and we made the bet slash promise to try until I officially got snipped.

I'll neither confirm nor deny that I looked at our cycle calendar before booking that trip. She could have at least attempted to avoid getting pregnant that weekend. Instead, she spent most of it just begging for more. I open my mouth to remind her when little feet come running into the bathroom.

"Stop fighting!" Sofia stands in the doorway, little feet planted wide, fists on her hips. She's the most precocious four-year-old I've ever met, and that's saying something considering Max is her best friend.

"Sofia, mommy, and daddy are not fighting. We're just talking loudly." She raises an eyebrow at us, skeptical. Fuck, this kid is bossy.

"Sofe, why don't you pack your dollies for our trip. Mommy and daddy want to leave early in the morning tomorrow; you need to be all ready to go." Drew gets up and gently redirects our kid, who cheers at the top of her lungs.

We're spending the weekend at the Finger Lakes, which always puts Drew in a good mood.

Sofia sufficiently occupied; I meet Drew at the bed. She's seated on the edge, looking out the window, her expression a bit lost.

"Hey," I crouch in front of her and gather her hands in mine. "What is it? What has you worried?" She shrugs, looking down at our joined hands.

"I don't know. The same fears as the last time, I guess? Everything is so good right now. What if I fail and fuck all of it up?" Her voice is watery, and I know she's thinking about the miscarriage we had the year we got married.

"Hey, Dr. Mayhew was clear, sometimes, it just happens even when the pregnancy is perfectly healthy. You did not fail." She nods before allowing me to pull her into a hug. While last time was healthy, it wasn't anything like her pregnancy with Sofia. This one, though, it feels the same. Her morning sickness, the sensitivity in her breasts. Moodiness. Maybe it's some ingrained evolutionary instinct in me, but I believe without a doubt that this time, she'll carry this baby to term.

"I love you," I whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I love you more."

"I love you the most."

"I love you to infinity plus one." Weboth laugh at the last one, it's so stupid, but after nearly five years, wecan't imagine not saying it. A moment later, Sofia comes charging back in,demanding a snuggle fest with mommy and daddy. The future might be a littleunknown at the moment, but I know that as long as I have my girls, we canweather anything that comes our way.