There’s an ebb and flow to the way time passes. Sometimes it rushes, sometimes it strolls, and this past year has been a mixture of the two. It’s funny how things are.

While knee deep in one of the biggest scandals of the decade, time seemed to drag, the clock counting each second with maddening patience. But as a resolution materialized on the horizon, the events started unfolding at a hurried pace, the inevitability of it all rushing to meet us.

And then it happened. What happened? I hear you ask, and the answer is a simple one, naked and raw: happiness happened. And, above all things, love happened.

But how can three people love each other? I hear you ask again. Or maybe it’s just my imagination. If you walked this road with us, you probably have an answer of your own for a question like that.

Still, let me give you mine. You see, I don’t think love has clear-cut boundaries. I don’t believe it tells you who to love, and when to love, or even how to love. It does none of these things; it simply exists in each breath you take, dancing with your soul one step at a time. Love is bigger and better than what a movie or a song tells you it should be. You can look the word up in the dictionary, and you’ll realize that words fail to paint a clear picture.

“What are you doing?” Ares asks me, coming up beside me and putting his arms around my waist, his lips diving straight to my neck. I’m standing on the balcony of the penthouse the three of us bought, and the sun is setting now, its orange glow draped over the city skyline.

“Nothing,” I tell him, turning around to meet him. Smiling, I brush my lips against his.

“That’s suspicious,” he chuckles, taking one hand to my stomach and running the palm of his hand over the big lump under my blouse. Oh, that’s right, I completely forgot to tell you. I’m pregnant—six months now. Yes, we’re going to have a baby. And, before you ask, the answer is no; I have no idea who’s the father.

Why? Because it doesn’t matter. Let me rephrase that so I’m clear; I do know who’s the father, and it’s the two of them.

“What are the two of you doing outside here?” Lucas asks, stepping onto the balcony. His button-up shirt has its sleeves rolled up, and he has his red tie flung over his shoulder. He’s cooking dinner, and he still looks goddamn irresistible while doing so. Between the three of us, we decided to elect him as the official cook of our household; swing by someday, have dinner with us, and you’ll see. I guess God wasn’t satisfied with blessing him with the looks and the brain; he also had to go and make him a gifted cook.

Of course, Ares also had a few tricks up his sleeves, ones that I knew nothing about. Back when they were studying finance at Harvard, Lucas and Ares were drawn to each other because of one thing in particular—they were both in love with music. While Lucas had a penchant for the piano and its subtlety, Ares was quite different; he learned to play the trumpet and fully embraced the extravagance of it.

More than marry two titans of finance, I ended up marrying a jazz band. What? Did I say marry? Oh, yeah, I did. And that’s because we’re married, the three of us. Sure, the United States doesn’t legally recognize our bond, but who cares about what the government thinks? There are two words that shouldn’t be used in the same sentence, and they are love and government.

Yeah, I’m not that fond of the government, but can you blame me? After the number they pulled on us, I think I have the right to want to keep my distance. Thankfully, everything changed after bastard Seymour was throw into a deep cell.

It took us a few months but, together, the three of us managed to rebuild Union Airlines’s reputation and we turned what was already a behemoth into a true wonder of the business world. Last time I checked, we were being hailed as the biggest company in the world, ahead of technology companies. And not only that, but we are the most profitable one. Funny how things can change so much in a year, uh?

I have money, a strong reputation, the two most gorgeous men who have ever walked the Earth...and, above all these things, there’s a new life growing inside my belly. One that came from a love so deep and strong that it simply had to happen. I’m not the most spiritual person, and I used to scoff at words like destiny, but...well, what can I say? Love makes you see things in a different perspective.

“Dinner’s getting late, lovebirds,” Lucas continues, coming up to us with a wide smile. He smacks Ares in the ass with a chuckle and then, turning to me, he bends over and picks me up from the floor. “I’ll carry you, you’re too fat to walk now.”

“Asshole,” I laugh, playfully punching his arm as he walks back inside our apartment. The smell of roasted meat reaches me, and I smile as I see that he has already set the table, a red cloth covering it while a few candles light up the living room.

No, this isn’t a big party, or some kind of ungodly celebration. It’s just a simple dinner, and that’s exactly why I decided to show you this. Love is about the simple things, the pure ones. And, now that we’re a family, I’ve come to learn those things. It sounds like common sense, doesn’t it? I guess that’s because it is...but the thing with common sense is that it doesn’t really make any sense until you experience something like this.

“I’m so hungry,” I say as Lucas puts me down on my seat, and he chuckles at that.

“That’s why you’re fat!” Ares chimes in, a bright laugh on his lips.

“I’m not fat. I’m pregnant, you two. And I have to eat for two, you know?”

“That’s the kind of excuse I can play along with...”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“Keep saying that, maybe it’ll become true.”

I laugh, and then I just look at them both in silence, a kind of warm happiness washing over me. We’re laughing; we’re together. Just like a family. A happy one.

If I could ask for one thing, it’d be for this to never end.

And you know what? I think it won’t, I really do.