“Ivy?” I call out as I walk in the quiet house after work.

She’d left work early today to make it to an appointment for her annual exam. Her car’s in the garage, but she doesn’t answer. The only response I receive is the sound of nails clicking on the hardwoods.

I set my briefcase on the dining room table and crouch to pet Daisy. “Hey, girl.” She nuzzles me, tail wagging happily. “Have you seen Ivy?”

No sooner do the words leave my lips than I detect the faint sound of the piano playing downstairs.

Toeing off my shoes, I pad down to the lower level and stop at the doorway and take a moment to observe her.

I didn’t think it possible, but she’s even more beautiful when she loses herself in the music. When I listen to the mesmerizing lilt of her voice, it soothes my soul, knowing she’s free from her past. And I can’t help but reflect on how far we’ve come.

After that final Super Bowl, I didn’t waste time proposing to her. I knew without a shadow of a doubt she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And I’d done it without the fanfare most women would want because, well…that’s not Ivy.

We’d come home from grabbing frozen yogurt after she’d finished up another successful “ditching,” and I’d suggested we head out back to sit by the fire pit and relax. Beneath a clear night that sparkled with stars and a nearly full moon illuminating the sky, with my heart in my throat, I’d told her every reason she should marry me.

“If you marry me, I’ll make you sunflower butter-granola wraps and sweet potato pancakes whenever you want. I’ll buy a bigger, better piano for you if you want. I’ll do a better job of not watching SportsCenter as much. I’ll always take you out for frozen yogurt to celebrate your successes at work. I promise I’ll be”—I’d had to pause to regain composure—“the best father if you want to have kids.” Then, rushing on, I’d added, “But I’m good with it just being the three of us: you, me, and Daisy. Basically, what I’m trying to say is…” I dragged a hand down my face, realizing I was screwing up, and flashed her a sheepish grin. “Ivy Hayes, will you marry me so we can live happily ever after?”

I’d withdrawn the ring that had been practically burning a hole in my pocket the entire night and held it up. I leaned toward her and winked before adding with a mock whisper, “By the way, it’s not cubic zirconia—it’s the real deal.”

The smile that spread across her face, the way her eyes danced merrily as she laughed, was a moment I’ve savored.

Even more when she’d said yes.

Watching my wife at the piano, admiring the way her long, dark hair cascades down her back and drapes over her shoulders, I know what true happiness is.

It’s not being awarded the Heisman Trophy, being named the captain of the team, landing a major advertising campaign, or even winning a Super Bowl.

It’s this right here. Having someone I can come home to who knows me inside and out, all my flaws, and still loves me. Still appreciates me. Someone who doesn’t care about trophies or money. Someone who simply wants—loves—me.

Ivy’s voice stops abruptly, and her fingers still on the piano keys. Slowly, she turns to look my way, and when her blue eyes meet mine, unabashed love shines through.

“You beat me home.” I stride over to where she’s still seated on the piano bench. She turns her face up, and I frame it with my hands, lean down, and dust a soft kiss on her lips. “Missed you.”

Ivy scoots over and pats the available space on the bench. “Sit with me for a moment?”

I eye her curiously, detecting something odd in her tone, and lower myself to sit beside her.

She turns back to the keys. Her fingers stay poised above them, the overhead lights making the diamonds in her wedding and engagement bands sparkle. “Tell me if you recognize this one.”

She doesn’t sing, only plays the notes of a song I recognize, but it strikes me as curious. The lullaby, “Hush, Little Baby.”

Until it dawns on me.

“Ivy?” I lay a hand on her thigh, waiting for her to meet my gaze.

A slow smile spreads across her face, and she reaches to her opposite side and withdraws what I initially assume to be a small square photograph. When she hands it to me, my world stills, my breathing becoming shallow.

I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing.

I look down at the photo and caress the edge of the ultrasound photo with my thumb. I raise my eyes, already welling with emotion, to lock with hers.

“Surprise,” she says with a glowing smile. “You’re going to be a dad.”

I’m rendered speechless, so overcome with emotion. We’ve been trying to start our family, and to learn this now is simply…everything.

I drape my arm around her and pull her close, pressing my face into her hair. “God, I love you.”

I lean back, and she peers up at me, her eyes shining with happy tears. With a soft kiss on my lips, she whispers, “I love you more,” against my mouth.

“We’ll just see about that.” Catching her by surprise, I gently scoop her up in my arms and carry her upstairs to our bedroom to show her just how much I love her.

The kisses she places along my jawline and neck along the way and the way she softly murmurs, “I love you,” serve as further confirmation.

All the Super Bowl wins in the world could never trump winning Ivy’s heart.

Ivy Jones.

The one woman who certainly won’t ever be getting ditched.

Want to know more about Emma Jane and Knox? Keep reading for an excerpt from their story He Loves Me…KNOT!