44. Sloane
Sloane
“ A w, love. Don’t cry.”
I blink away the sleep from my eyes and take in the scene before me. God, this man is delicious. My husband is shirtless as he bounces around our tiny bedroom with the most beautiful little girl in his arms. Our daughter.
It’s been a week since Tia entered our lives. Since then, Sully has handled every diaper, including a few blowouts, talking our little one through them with the gentlest tone.
Calling her love each and every time.
God, do I love him.
And our three best friends have been keeping T.J. occupied so he doesn’t feel like he’s being held captive in this room with us.
Terrance Murphy might have been on to something when he created that trust.
Tia lets out one of those cries that is too adorable not to smile over. Unfortunately, the sound triggers my boobs to swell, and a moment later, moisture leaks from them. “Bring her to me,” I say, taking Sully by surprise.
“Morning, sweetheart. I was hoping you could get a few more minutes of sleep, but I think she’s too hungry to wait. ”
I laugh lightly. “I got that.”
Sully settles on the bed beside me and helps me adjust Tia. As soon as she gets comfortable, she latches on and quiets down quickly. The girl loves to eat.
Sully presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Did you get any sleep?”
I catalog the precious details of our gorgeous girl like I do every time she’s in my arms. She’s got a head of dark hair and creamy skin, with big blue eyes that are just like mine.
Her nostrils are heart-shaped, which might be one of her most adorable attributes.
Or maybe it’s her little toes, which she curls up and twists when she gets hungry.
Or her teeny, tiny hands that ball into fists.
I can’t stop staring at her.
I bring my nose to her head and inhale, soaking up that newborn scent. If only someone could figure out how to bottle it, the world would be a happier place.
“I got a few hours,” I tell him.
Sully’s good about waking up with me when Tia cries, but he often dozes while I feed her, so I try to let him sleep until she cries again.
He’s been involved in every moment for the last week, determined to prove to me that this isn’t just a phase. He’s a better daddy this time around. A better partner. And he’s intent on staying that way.
“T.J. was asking if we could take him to the park today,” Sully says, his eyes full of uncertainty.
Honestly, the fresh air sounds like a great idea. It would feel good to stretch out my legs and act like a human again.
I smile. “Sounds perfect. After I feed her, I’ll put her down for a nap and take a shower. Then I can feed her again before we get in the car. With any luck, she won’t fuss too much.”
Sully presses a kiss to Tia’s head. “My love would never.”
I laugh. Right. The girl already has her daddy wrapped around her finger.
Three feedings—and diaper changes—later, we’ve finally unloaded the carriage from the back of our new SUV, and T.J. is bouncing with unrestrained energy, ready to rush to the swings.
“Let’s have lunch first,” Sully tells him, carrying a cooler that he must have packed during one of Tia’s many feedings. Thank God for that too, because now that I think about it, I’m starving.
“But I want to take a swan ride after lunch,” T.J. says. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try, but T.J. used to scream if we brought him anywhere near them, so I’m shocked that he’s asking to go on one.
“Hey, bud. Let’s eat first. Then you can pick what you want to do.”
T.J. huffs like a bull and stomps his foot, but with one look from Sully, he straightens.
That reaction is just as shocking. Our strong-willed boy rarely listens that quickly.
Sully guides us to an area surrounded by large sycamore trees with enough shade to lay out a blanket. Once I’m seated, he scoops Tia out of her stroller and sets her in my lap. “I’ll get the food set up, and then I’ll take her so you can eat.”
I keep my eyes on T.J. as he runs between trees, chasing after a chipmunk, so I don’t notice that Sully’s returned with our food until he clears his throat.
He’s kneeling beside me, a little closer than I expect, when I turn toward the sound.
Kneeling… on one knee.
And between two fingers, he holds a gorgeous diamond ring.
My throat grows tight at the expression on his face. So hopeful and loving.
“ Sully. ” His name is a breath on my lips. An answered prayer.
He smiles. “Sweetheart, I have loved you for nearly two decades. We’ve been through it these past few years, and I can’t begin to explain how grateful I am that you’re giving me this second chance. You’ve given me two beautiful children and more love and happiness than I deserve. ”
Tears quickly form and flow down my cheeks. “You deserve all the happiness.”
Angling in, he swipes at the tears.
I don’t mind them one bit. These are tears of joy. We’ve earned them.
“The last time I did this, I was full of ideas. I thought I knew precisely what I was signing up for. Promising to love you for the rest of my life was as easy as promising to breathe.”
Tia squirms, her face scrunching up, and lets out the tiniest wail.
Sully rubs her head softly, and when she settles, he takes a deep breath. “But the truth is, I didn’t understand that loving you is only part of this promise. Because love is an action, not just a feeling.”
I nod. God, he’s got it all right.
“So today I’m not just promising to love you for the rest of our lives.
I promise to show up. I promise to be present.
I promise to hold you and talk to you and have fun with you.
” He smiles, and then, in a low whisper, like he’s nervous Tia will understand, he adds, “And find random closets where I can fuck you.”
I cough out a laugh. “Yes. Yes, to all of that.”
He grins. “I haven’t finished.”
With a roll of my eyes, I huff, but I nod for him to continue.
“And I promise to be there for our children. I promise to make time for all of us. To put us first, always.”
I give it a few beats before saying, “Are you finished now?”
Lips twitching, he shrugs. “Yes, sweetheart, I think I am. So, what do you say? Will you be my wife again?”
My answer is simple and truer than I could have imagined a few months ago. “A thousand todays would never be enough. Yes, Sully. Of course I’ll be your wife again.”
With a small whoop, he hovers close and presses his lips to mine. With this kiss, we promise to keep showing up. To keep trying. To keep loving one another. Knowing full well that it won’t be easy, that life will get in the way, and that we’ll have to work to keep our marriage going .
That marriage is a daily commitment. An action. A choice.
And I’ll choose him every single day.
When he pulls back, he’s smiling. “You hear that, love? Your mommy agreed to marry me again.” He brushes his lips over her head. “Teej,” he calls, turning around. “She said yes.”
Excitement rushes through me. T.J. was in on the surprise? No wonder he listened to Sully so easily when he gave him that look.
When T.J. doesn’t appear from behind the tree he was just running circles around, a niggle of worry works its way through me.
“T.J.” Sully stands and scans our surroundings. “Did you see which way he went?”
I shake my head. “He was right behind that tree.”
With a nod, he steps off the blanket. “I’ll go look for him.”
“Here, take the baby. I’ll help.”
He’s back in a heartbeat, putting Tia in the stroller.
Once he’s helped me to my feet, we wander, calling for our son.
As seconds bleed into minutes, panic grips me and my stomach twists more painfully.
Each time we yell his name, more bystanders join in our search.
I’m pulling my phone from my pocket to find a photo to show the people offering to help, on the verge of hyperventilating, when Sully grabs my arm and mutters, “Oh fuck.”
He points to the middle of the lake, where our precocious son is sitting in a damn white swan boat. Crying.
“How the hell?”
Sully grasps my hand and puts it on the stroller handle, ensuring I’ve got it, and takes off. “Stay right there, bud. Dad’s coming.”
“I wanted the swan,” T.J. cries, “but I don’t like the water.”
Right. The kid doesn’t like heights, yet he scaled a building last fall. And he’s afraid of water, so naturally, he’d jump into a swan boat. It’d be comical if it wasn’t so scary.
My husband rushes toward the dock, and without hesitation, jumps in. He surfaces quickly, covered in mud, and stands, the water hitting him below his waist.
Only once he’s dragged the damn swan boat to the dock and pulled T.J. out of it—T.J. completely dry and my husband covered in muck—do I finally breathe.
My little guy launches himself into my arms, and I squeeze him tight. Unable to let him go, I eye Sully, trying not to laugh as he pulls mud leaves from his shoe.
“You better say thank you to your daddy.”
T.J. turns around in my arms and faces him. “He’s Super Daddy.”
Sully smiles easily. “Better than the firefighters who rescued you?”
“The best,” T.J. agrees.
He’s right. Sully’s not just a better daddy. He’s the best daddy around. And he’s mine.