Farrah
It was wild what could happen in a year. If you’d told me back then where my life would end up, I wouldn’t have believed you—mostly because it felt too good to be true.
Walker and I went with a short engagement…
because honestly, we’d waited long enough.
We were married that spring, and the ceremony was small, family only.
We exchanged vows at sunset on our property, horses grazing nearby, wildflowers swaying in the breeze, the rolling hills turning gold behind us.
Walker recited special vows to Hadley that damn near broke me. Broke all of us, if the sniffles and wiped cheeks were any indication.
The reception was under a tent near the barn, and it was everything I’d ever wanted—simple, intimate, ours.
Walker and Hadley’s relationship only kept growing. After we got married, she started calling him Daddy Walk. Hadley had just turned four, and she proudly told everyone at daycare she had two daddies and two mommies.
Jake and I were Mommy and Daddy. Lily and Walker were Mommy Lil and Daddy Walk.
Co-parenting came with challenges—no matter how healthy the relationships—but it was a blessing to have all four of us on the same page. Hadley’s happiness and well-being were always at the center of every decision.
Wildflower Interiors was booming thanks to Duke Preston. After the clubhouse renovation, he came back with another project—the executive-level offices, and his space was at the top of the list because he was, in his words, “tired of living in a museum.”
Maddie and Emma had stepped up in a huge way this last year, and I’d grown the team in ways I never would’ve dared to before.
Walker? He was loving retirement more than he ever thought he would. He rode his horses most days, spent hours in the barn with Hadley, and had hinted more than once that he wanted to buy her a pony.
So that was what we were doing today—looking at ponies with Addison. She’d found a farm nearby with a few small ones for sale.
Addison was leading Hadley around on an adorable dark bay with four white stockings. His name was Hershey Kiss, and he had fantastic ground manners… for a pony. One of the other ponies had been too big. Another had been a little rude on the ground, too much attitude for a four-year-old.
Walker leaned against the fence rail; eyes fixed on Hadley like she was the only thing in the world.
“I think this is the one,” he said.
I nodded, smiling. “I think so too. He’s so sweet.”
Walker finally tore his gaze away and turned to me. “Hey—Coach Parks called today. They want to bring me on as a pitching coach. They’ve got a couple of new rookies. Coach Turner wants me working with them so he can focus on the veterans.”
He searched my face. “What do you think?”
I paused, letting it land. Even with all the downtime he’d needed after eleven years in the league, I’d been able to feel it lately—the restlessness. The way he still missed the game, even when he swore he didn’t.
“I think it’s an amazing opportunity,” I answered honestly. “You’re still young. And what better way to keep baseball in your life?”
Walker pulled me into his chest and kissed the top of my head. “You’re sure? It would mean me being gone again.”
I tilted my head back to look up at him. “We still have your penthouse in Austin. I’ll be commuting again for the office renovation. Hadley will be in elementary school before we know it.” I squeezed his waist. “We’ll figure it out. We did during your last season.”
The smile that broke across his face made my heart squeeze. He kissed me, slow and grateful.
“I love you,” he murmured. “So fucking much.”
I smiled against his lips. “I love you more, Ace.”
After Walker decided to return to baseball as a pitching coach, life threw us another curveball.
I was pregnant.
Walker was over the moon. He loved being a dad to Hadley and had wanted more kids since the moment he’d stepped into that role in our little family. The timing wasn’t perfect, but I kept assuring him we’d be fine, we'd make it work with his new career.
When I had genetic testing done at ten weeks, they asked if we wanted to find out the gender. Walker claimed he couldn’t handle not knowing.
So here we were.
Today I picked up the envelope from my doctor’s office—the one with the answer inside.
Hadley was with Jake and Lily tonight, so I made Walker’s favorite meal to surprise him. He didn’t know the results were in.
I heard the back door open and close, and a second later, Walker stepped into the kitchen, straight to where I was pulling lasagna out of the oven. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me back against his chest.
“You made me lasagna.”
“I sure did.” I tipped my head to the side. “Can you grab the salad bowl and put it on the table, please?”
“Sure thing.”
Once we sat down, I placed the envelope against the vase of wildflowers Walker brought me every week. I wasn’t sure why I thought serving him lasagna—the man’s favorite—was a smart idea when I was trying to deliver big news.
He was too busy shoveling food into his mouth to notice the envelope sitting right in front of his face.
When he finally came up for air, I cleared my throat. “Uh… Ace, baby. Did you not notice what’s in front of you?”
Walker tilted his head and then his gaze dropped to the envelope.
His eyes went wide. “Is that what I think it is?”
I nodded, smiling. “I thought we could open it together tonight. And then do something special to tell Hadley.”
He ripped it open like an animal.
“So much for a drumroll,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
His eyes flicked over the paper once. Twice. Then he looked at me—emerald eyes wide, a grin so big it nearly split his face.
“Wildflower,” he breathed. “We’re having a boy!”
By the time the anatomy scan rolled around, Walker’s excitement had only gotten worse—in the best way and in the “please stop ordering tiny baseball gloves” way.
The nursery was already being swallowed by baby clothes and baseball gear.
Because, yes. He’d bought our unborn son baseball equipment.
Dr. Bernier walked into the room and asked if we had any questions before she started.
Walker opened his mouth—
I lifted a hand. “Nope. We’re good.”
I flashed him a warning glare, and miracle of miracles, he backed down. We would’ve lived in that room if I’d let him get started.
Dr. Bernier placed the wand on my stomach. Once she found the baby, the room fell completely still. Walker’s gaze locked on the screen, stunned like it was the first truly holy thing he’d ever seen. You could make out our baby’s head, his little body curled comfortably inside of me.
“There’s your baby boy,” Dr. Bernier whispered.
A few clicks on the machine.
“And here is his heartbeat.”
The quiet room filled with that steady, relentless sound—our son, alive and strong. I looked at Walker. Tears slipped down his face as he stared at the screen like he couldn’t breathe around the love.
I squeezed his hand.
I’d been nervous about doing this again.
About the possibility of postpartum anxiety returning, about feeling out of control, alone, paralyzed by fear.
But watching Walker with Hadley… watching him right now—I knew, without a doubt, that if I ended up back in that dark place, he’d be beside me.
He’d get me through it. He’d pull me to the other side.
We’d get to the other side.
Together.
The End.