Egil sleeps at my feet, the old boy slowing down these days, happy to rest as the others play.
I realize I’m daydreaming, luxuriating in the life we’ve built. I sit up, smiling at my daughter.
“Of course, you can, sweetness.”
She mimes being sick. “What did I say about calling me that, huh?”
I giggle. “Well, I’m never going to stop, sweetness.”
She laughs as she walks over to me, clutching a leather-bound book to her chest. She’s got that sweet smile on her face, her brown braid draped over her shoulder.
“You said it’s your and dad’s anniversary coming up soon, right?”
“Yeah.”
She takes a breath, reminding me so much of myself before I met my Asher… well, for the second time.
She reminds me of the Autumn before I lost my parents.
And I realize that, maybe, that’s the joy of parenthood. We get to see ourselves reflected in our children and be there to help them overcome their challenges, their shyness, in their own unique and creative ways.
“I hope you like it,” she says. “Daddy said I could show it to you now.”
“Come here, sweetness.”
I pull her onto my lap and wrap my arm around her. Even if she says she’s getting too old for mommy cuddles, today she gratefully slumps against me, and together we turn to the book.
“It’s a history book,” she murmurs. “Sort of, anyway.”
I turn the first page, my heart fluttering, feeling like it might crack down the middle.
She’s written ‘A History of Mom and Dad’ in her typically neat handwriting, with a heart over the i in history.
I blink away a tear as I turn the first page.
It’s a photo of me and Asher, taken soon after Lila was born, my hair messy and sweaty around my shoulders. Asher’s handsome features are turned into pure happiness, beaming at the camera as I cradle little Lila in my arms.
“You were so small,” I whisper.
We turn the next page together, and it’s our wedding day.
And the next… bringing me to graduation, with Asher’s arm over my shoulder as I beam in my cap and gown.
We keep turning the pages and the memories keep on – birthdays, Christmases, my first book signing when I looked up to find Asher at the back of the bookshop, a proud smile on his face.
“Do you like it, Mommy?” Lila asks.
“I love it,” I whisper, and then I can’t hold it back anymore.
All this life, all this happiness, and it started with a text.
The wrong text, the right text, the accidental text, and it all led here.
“And I love you.” I hug Lila tighter. “This was a beautiful thing to do. I’m so proud of you.”
She leans back against me, gripping onto my arm. “I’m proud of you too, Mommy.”
We sit in silence for a time, listening to Asher and the boys through the window, splashing around.
Liam laughs and yells, “Daddy, Daddy, wait up!”
And I know, without a single doubt, that this is the life I was meant to live.
I know that fate had a part to play that day, bringing us together the second time.
Happiness bubbles up inside of me, as my daughter twists around to kiss me on the cheek.
This is the life.