Chapter 48
HAYDEN
Two years ago today, I sat in a church filled with strangers.
I held my children close while people whispered about God’s plan. I nodded at condolences from men who didn’t know Cora’s laugh. Women who’d never seen her barefoot in the kitchen, flour on her cheek.
Last year, I did the same thing.
Forced Presley and Jemmy into stiff clothes. Made them sit in a pew and remember what they’d lost.
I told myself it was respect.
It wasn’t.
It was punishment.
For me.
For not insisting she get checked out sooner.
For not seeing what was happening inside her body.
For believing we had time.
I don’t blame myself the way I used to.
What happened to Cora was out of my control. I know that now. I’ve said it enough times it finally feels true.
Do I still wish I’d done something different?
Of course.
But every time guilt creeps in, I roll over in bed and see the spot that used to be empty.
It’s not empty anymore.
Rowan sleeps there. Tangled in our sheets. Hair wild. One arm flung across my chest like she’s afraid I might disappear.
If it weren’t for Cora, Rowan wouldn’t be here.
I loved my wife.
I miss her.
But I can’t imagine my life without Rowan.
This past year has been the happiest in recent memory.
Not just because I’m back in a job I love at the hospital. But because of the life Rowan’s brought back to my existence. Every day is a new adventure. I’ve learned to appreciate the little things.
And say yes.
Which is what I’m doing today.
Saying yes.
Yes to ice cream for breakfast.
Yes to trampoline parks.
Yes to building a snowman together.
Yes to adventure.
Yes to living.
Yes to love.
“Where to next?” Rowan asks as we leave the trampoline park, Presley and Jemmy still bouncing despite having spent the past hour doing exactly that.
Presley glances my way and gives me a look.
A conspiratorial, very grown-up look.
Then she turns to Rowan.
“I think it’s time for some cake pops.”
She’s been speaking for almost a year now. Full sentences. Opinions. Negotiations.
Some days I beg for silence.
Most days, I sit in awe of the sound.
Rowan beams. “Cake pops it is.”
We all pile into the SUV, and I drive toward downtown Sycamore Falls, my pulse ticking faster with every block.
Over the past year, Rowan has said yes to a lot.
Yes to coming back here.
Yes to moving in with me.
Yes to loving my children like they’re hers.
Yes to letting me love her.
But today, I plan to ask for one more.
And it’s the biggest one of all.
Downtown is lit up for the holidays with garland draped across storefronts and twinkle lights strung from lamppost to lamppost. When I first moved back here, I avoided coming downtown this time of year because of how much Cora loved Christmas.
Now, I embrace the holiday season again.
Instead of focusing on everything we lost, the memories we’d never recreate again, we’ve made new memories together. Decorating the tree. Holding Jemmy up high so he could put the star on the top. Groucho Barx, our rescued shelter pup, constantly drinking water from the stand.
I park up the street from the coffee shop and rush to open Rowan’s door for her before helping Jemmy out of his car seat.
Once Presley steps out, we walk together as a family through downtown, the butterflies in my stomach becoming more relentless.
As we near the coffee shop, Rowan reaches for the door.
“Rowan, wait.”
She turns, confusion knitting her brows, especially when she sees the wide grin on Presley’s face.
“I know this is technically supposed to be a yes day for the kids,” I begin, my voice steadier than I feel, “but I was hoping you’d say yes to me.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Throughout my career, I’ve faced hundreds of nerve-racking situations. Have had to make split-second decisions that could mean the difference between life and death.
I’ve never felt as nervous as I do right now.
But I’ve also never felt as certain.
“Marrying me,” I respond as I drop to one knee.
She releases an audible gasp, her hand flying to her mouth.
Locals and tourists mill around us, some stopping to watch, but I don’t see them.
All I see is her.
The woman who burst into my life wearing taco pajama pants and walking a dog named Bark Twain.
The woman who brought noise back into my house.
Color back into my days.
Breath back into my lungs.
Love back into my heart.
“A year ago in this very spot, a woman who’s my opposite in every way lost control of her dog and bumped into me, forcing me to spill coffee all over myself.
At the time, I wasn’t living,” I admit through the heaviness in my throat.
“I was existing. I thought loving again would dishonor what I lost. I still miss Cora. I always will. But loving you doesn’t erase her.
Doesn’t replace her. It just…proves my heart survived. ”
Her eyes fill with tears and she swipes at a few that have escaped.
“Knowing what I do now about strength and second chances, I still marvel at you. At your courage. At the way you choose joy even when there are no guarantees.” I swallow hard at the reminder, but push through anyway.
“I know we promised to live for now. To stay in the present. Not plan too far ahead.” I take a breath. “But I want to call you my wife. I want to be your husband. Not because it promises us forever. But because it promises us today. And tomorrow. And every day we’re lucky enough to get.”
I open the ring box.
“Marry me, Rowan. Say yes to this life. Say yes to me.”
For a moment, she just stares at me.
Snow falling. Lights glowing. My kids holding their breath beside me.
Then she laughs, watery and overwhelmed. “Like I could ever say no to you.”
I jump to my feet, tugging her against me as I bring the ring up to her finger. “So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a yes,” she confirms.
I crush my lips against hers as several people clap and cheer, including Presley and Jemmy who say something about crush business.
“And not because it’s a yes day,” she adds once I bring our kiss to an end. “But because I couldn’t imagine saying no to you. Not today. Not ever.”
“Not ever,” I repeat, brushing my mouth against hers.
“I guess I do get a happily ever after,” she whispers, admiring the ring on her finger.
“Maybe.” I curve toward her once more. “But I still prefer living happily for now.”
“So do I,” she exhales, her lips finding mine yet again.
As I pull her closer, I don’t worry about what comes next. Don’t think about what losing her might mean.
I just hold my wife-to-be in the middle of a small-town street, surrounded by my kids, savoring in the present.
All because I finally started living again.
Because I said yes.
Thank you so much for reading Tempted by the Nanny.