Chapter 25
I never thought I’d get to feel this kind of peace.
Not the fleeting kind that comes after a storm, fragile and unsure–but something stronger, Something rooted. Something earned.
The wedding already felt like a beautiful blur–soft violins, candlelight, and Sebastian’s hand in mine as we exchanged vows not written by obligation or expectation, but by love. Real, messy, sacred love.
And after everything–the betrayal, the divorce, the heartbreak–I had finally found something gentle. Someone who looked at me like I wasn’t a mistake he regretted, but a miracle he was grateful for.
Our honeymoon was straight out of a daydream. We went to Santorini, where the sky melted into the sea, and everything felt suspended in golden light. We wandered through whitewashed streets, fingers laced, eating too much gelato and laughing at nothing.
“You know,” Sebastian said as we lay on a hammock overlooking the Aegean, “I could live in this moment forever.”
I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. “I don’t need forever. I just need this life. With you.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Then that’s exactly what you’ll get.”
And he meant it.
We spent the nights tangled in sheets and the mornings slow–coffee in bed, sharing stories from our childhoods, and planning a future that felt more real with each passing
hour.
When we came home, life wasn’t always perfect–but it was ours. And that was enough.
A few weeks after we returned, I felt off. A little dizzy. A little nauseous. At first, I thought it was just exhaustion from all the traveling and adjusting. But when I missed my period… I
knew.
Sebastian held the pregnancy test in shaking hands. Two pink lines.
“Are we…?” he whispered.
I nodded, tears in my eyes. “We’re going to be parents.”
He didn’t say a word. He just fell to his knees, pressed his forehead to my stomach, and whispered, “Thank you.”
Pregnancy changed everything.
Suddenly, I wasn’t just building a life–I was growing one. And Sebastian was by my side through it all. He came to every doctor’s appointment, even when he had meetings. H watched baby name videos with me, talked to my belly every night, and painted the nursery himself though he made a terrible mess.
Lucas nearly passed out when we told him.
3/3 96.0%
through it all. He came to every doctor a appointment, even when në nad meetings, P watched baby name videos with me, talked to my belly every night, and painted the nursery himself though he made a terrible mess.
Lucas nearly passed out when we told him.
“Wait–you’re having a baby?” he stammered, mouth hanging open.
“Don’t look so shocked,” I teased. “People get pregnant after they get married.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Gross.”
But he was excited. Even more so when he introduced us to his girlfriend, Freya–a quiet, smart girl who somehow managed to balance him out. They were adorable together. Young, hopeful, and just starting their own journey.
It made my heart ache–in the good way.
Then came the birth.
It was long. Painful. Raw. But when I finally heard our baby’s cry–when I saw her tiny fists waving and felt her against my chest–everything inside me cracked wide open.
We named her Rosalie.
Rosie for short.
She had Sebastian’s dark eyes and my smile. And from the moment she arrived, she became our world.
Nights were a blur of diapers and lullabies. Days passed in sleepy kisses and whispered promises. I held her in my arms and wondered how I ever thought I was broken. Because this–this tiny, perfect girl–proved I wasn’t. Not anymore.
Sebastian was obsessed. He refused to let a nanny handle anything in the beginning. He’d wake up with me during midnight feedings just to rub my back. He’d sing to Rosie in his awful off–key voice while rocking her like she was made of glass.
And I would watch them, my heart bursting.
“I didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much,” I said one evening as Rosie finally fell asleep between us on the bed.
Sebastian smiled at me, brushing a curl away from my face. “I didn’t know it was possible to love two people this much.”
Sometimes, in quiet moments, I thought about the past.
About Colton.
We never heard from him again.
No letters. No phone calls. No surprise visits.
He vanished as if he’d accepted that he had lost something he could never get back. Maybe that was for the best. We both needed to heal–apart.
As for Shania, I heard through a friend that she had moved to Spain and was dating a younger photographer. Good for her. I didn’t wish her ill. Not anymore.
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08:32 Sat, 24 May
About Colton.
We never heard from him again.
No letters. No phone calls. No surprise visits.
B0%
He vanished as if he’d accepted that he had lost something he could never get back. Maybe that was for the best. We both needed to heal–apart.
As for Shania, I heard through a friend that she had moved to Spain and was dating a younger photographer. Good for her. I didn’t wish her ill. Not anymore.
It’s strange, the way healing works. One day you’re bleeding, and the next… you’re blooming.
Our home is now filled with laughter. With warmth. With toys scattered across the floor and picture books half–read on the couch. With soft baby giggles and sweet “I love you’s.”
I take long walks with Rosie in her stroller and meet Lucas and Freya for brunch. Sebastian still kisses me every morning before he leaves for work and every night before we fall asleep.
We slow dance in the kitchen.
We say “thank you” and “I’m sorry” and “you matter” like they’re part of our everyday language.
We love.
Fully. Freely. Fiercely.
And every time I hold Rosie close and breathe her in, I know–I was meant to get here.
Not in a straight line. Not without pain. But here.
And if I could go back, I’d still choose it all.
Because this is the life I built from ashes.
This is the life I gave myself permission to find. And finally… it’s mine.
