“Une baguette, s’il vous plait.”

I pat Connor on the head as the old woman behind the counter fills his order. He’s seven now, and the spitting image of his father. His French is better than Maddox’s though. And he sounds so damn cute when he speaks it, I can’t help but smile.

I let him count out the coins to pay for the bread, then again as he makes sure the change is correct. As we walk out onto the sidewalk, the overwhelming smell of flowers greets me. It’s an unseasonably warm spring day in Annecy, a French town in the Alps not far from the Swiss border.

Maddox is waiting for us near the canal. “Can you believe this?” he asks, gesturing to the crazy amount of brilliant blooms all around. “This is nuts.”

By his side is Madeleine, our youngest. At least for now. Maddie is four, going on ten. I’ve never seen a child who soaks up the world the way that precious little girl does.

Maddox has a basket of cheese and wine. We’re on our way to the park for a little picnic, and the whole town seems vibrant and alive. We first came here on our honeymoon, but we loved it so much we bought a gorgeous villa in the hills above Lake Annecy. We nicknamed it La Maison du Roi—The King’s House, as a tribute to the man who married us.

Now we’re here every summer. Maddox can conduct most of his business online, and when he absolutely has to be somewhere in person, there’s a private airfield not far from the villa. The kids have friends both here and in Atherton, the San Mateo County town in Silicon Valley where our main house is. I have art studios in both houses, and my paintings still attempt to depict disturbing maelstroms of emotion. These days, though, I have to force myself to remember what that felt like.

Maddox spreads the blanket across an expanse of perfect green grass overlooking the flower-lined canal. Maddie immediately flops down in the middle, before we even have time to straighten it out.

I open the basket and break the baguette into pieces as Maddox opens the wine. Just before he starts to pour the second glass, I waive him off. “None for me, sweetie.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Don’t make me drink this whole bottle by myself. You’ll have to carry me home.” Connor busts out laughing, as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“I shouldn’t,” I say.

“Oh, come on. It’s a gorgeous spring day and you three are the people in the world I’d most want to spend it with. Have a glass of wine with me.”

I smile at him. “I really shouldn’t.”

He rolls his eyes. “Tempest…”

“I can’t.”

His stares at me, and slowly his expression turns from mild annoyance to utter shock.

“Are we…?” he asks.

My smile grows bigger. “We are.”

“When?”

“Late December.”

“Oh my god, this is great,” Maddox says gleefully. “Hey guys, guess what? Mommy is getting you a big present for Christmas.”

“What is it? What is it?” Connor demands, and Maddie immediately copies him in words and tone.

“What’s the one thing you’d want most in the whole wide world?” Maddox asks them.

“A bicycle!” Connor shouts enthusiastically. “And a battle drone!”

“How about you, Maddie?” I ask. “What do you want the surprise to be?”

“A puppy,” she says. “And a kitty. And a cow.”

Maddox and I suppress our laughter because she looks so serious.

I try again. “Maddie, darling, what did you tell me the other day you wanted? Remember, when we were in the garden?”

My little angel thinks hard for a moment, her brow crinkling. Then her eyes light up and she says, “A little sister!”

Connor looks at me, then at Maddox. “Are we getting a little sister?”

Unsure how to answer, Maddox defers to me.

“Maybe,” I say, “or maybe a little brother.”

“I want a little brother!” Connor shouts.

“I want a little sister!” says Maddie.

“Too early to tell,” I say. Turning to Maddox, I ask. “What do you want?”

His warm smile melts my heart.

“Either one would be perfect. I already have everything I want.”