I look at the piece of paper I hold in my hands. I’m nervous. I think I know how Michael will react, but our lives have barely begun calming down. Poor Michael seems to get one hit to the gut after another. I know finding out he wasn’t Annabelle’s true father hurt him. He might have suspected it all along, thanks to Jan’s cruelty, but he had never had it confirmed. Having it thrown in his face the way he did, having his past come back to the point we almost lost each other, it scarred him. I’m so grateful that he’s held on to me and to our family. He has never pulled away from me. He’s never shut me out and he has loved me and Connor with all he has.

We moved to the small farm on the outskirts of town about two months ago. It has a private fishing pond and an old cabin, that Michael is slowly transforming. His first step was to add on two more bedrooms and a large great room for Connor to play in. It’s a beautiful room, covered in rustic wood and lots of windows that overlook the pond. The second thing he did was to add a huge deck onto it. True to his word, every night the three of us go out and watch the stars. It’s an amazing life—a perfect life, and I know Michael is happy.

Still, there are times when I look over at him and I can see the shadows of his past, the sadness in his eyes that he tries to keep hidden. Those are the times I do my best to give him more and fill up his life with our family and all the love I have in my heart for him.

That day I decided to go to the warehouse alone, wasn’t an easy decision. I knew Connor needed his mother. Yet, I also knew that I couldn’t live, I couldn’t be the person Connor truly deserved as a mother—without Michael. I would die for either…any of my family, if it meant keeping them safe and happy. But without Michael, I would wither away inside. There would be nothing left to give Connor. So, even though Michael still gets upset with me for my decision to go to him that day, I’d do it again. In a heartbeat.

The house is quiet as I walk through the kitchen, but I can hear Michael talking to our son, his voice so full of love, I ache. The words are nonsense, just cooing to Connor and calming him. Michael’s gruff voice is soft and low. He loves Connor and he loves him in a way that Connor will never doubt that Michael is his Daddy. That’s special. It takes a man—a real man—to have the capacity to love a child that isn’t his by blood, but love him as if he were. I never dreamed in a million years that the day Michael Jameson stopped across from my house, to relieve himself on my small patch of wildflowers, would become the day my life would change forever. I would say it became the best day of my life—but that’s not true. Every day spent with Michael and Connor is better than the last.

I look down at the paper in my hands, and I feel the tears well up in my eyes. Better than the last. I make it to Connor’s nursery and watch my big bear of a man bend over Connor’s crib, placing our child there to sleep. I’m reminded even more forcefully how blessed I am. Here in this room, I have everything.

If I looked back on my past and knew that I’d find myself where I am at now, with this beautiful baby and a man that I love irrevocably…love in a way I didn’t truly know existed…I would go through it all again. It’s not pretty, but then maybe some stories aren’t meant to be pretty. That way when you get to the happily-ever-after part, you appreciate it more. You realize how truly sweet and rare it is. You realize it’s something that you will never take for granted.

In real-life you don’t always get fairytales. You don’t always get the love and the happily-ever-afters. You get pain. You get tragedy. That’s what our story is—Michael’s and mine. Our story was messy, dirty, painful, and even tragic. Until it wasn’t.

I move my hand to my stomach and close my eyes as I smile. I hear Connor laughing and my eyes go to my family. My family. The thing about our story is there is no grand finish. There is nothing that says, “the end.”

“Da Da!” Connor squeals and those tears begin to fall from my eyes, but happy tears are more than allowed.

Yeah. There’s no end in sight for Connor and me.

Our story is just beginning.