Once we’re in a space where we feel we can talk freely, we both start at once.

“I want this.”

“Let’s sign!”

“Really?” he asks me, turning in his seat with a shy grin.

“Of course!”

“So, we’re really going to have a baby?”

I don’t know why he needs the reassurance, but I give it to him. “We’re really going to have a baby.”

He leans over the center console, his mouth landing on mine.

After our lips break apart, he leans back.

“Do you think you’d be interested in asking Genna to be our surrogate?”

My lips purse. “I’m not sure how I’d feel about watching my sister carry our child.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, all during her pregnancy with Hannah, she talked about forming that special bond with her unborn child. I don’t think I’d be able to handle watching that bond form between her and our baby.” He nods. “I can only imagine it would make bringing the baby home all the more difficult, too. I think I’d feel like I was stealing her baby, and not bringing home our baby. Using a stranger would be easier, I think. There’s no emotional connection between us and her.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. If it makes you feel more comfortable, I have absolutely no problem looking into using one of the agency’s surrogates.”

“I think Genna would be great.” I need him to know that. It’s not that I don’t want to ask her.

“I know you do.”

“I just want this to be about us, with no pressure from family involved. And, God forbid if anything were to happen, I wouldn’t want her to feel responsible.”

“I think you’re right. In the end, it’s best we use someone with no connection to us.”

“Yes.”

Once we’re on the road, Parker takes my hand and our fingers lock together. I squeeze tight, needing him to not let go of me. Or maybe it’s me not wanting to let go of him and this moment. Because, right now, holding his hand and thinking about the decisions we have made and will continue to make, I believe that no matter what happens, we’re in this.

Together.

On Saturday, I spend the afternoon helping Genna get ready for what she calls “prom day.” I’m not the best at doing hair and make-up, but I’ve learned a few tricks over the last couple of years, thanks to Jean. When it’s time for her to leave, I drive back to the apartment.

I enter the apartment, calling for Parker. Silence. I yell again, even though the place isn’t that big.

When I walk into the bedroom my eyes widen. Lying in the center of the bed is the orange dress that I tried on at the dress shop. Next to it is a note that says, “Wear me.”

I pick the dress up¸ stunned. “What the?”

“Do you like it?” a raspy voice startles me.

Whipping around, my mouth drops open. Parker’s standing behind me with his hands behind his back, dressed in a black tux and an orange vest that matches the dress I’m holding.

I step in front of him, running my fingers across the soft stubble along his chin. I love his stubble. He wanted to shave it when we got married, but I told him he was never allowed to shave his face clean. Ever.

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

“I know you didn’t want to be a chaperone at the prom tonight, but you deserve to experience a prom, Aundrea, even if it’s just volunteering.” Parker fumbles with clear plastic packaging.

“Parker Cade Jackson, are you blushing?”

He looks up. “I want this to be perfect.”

“What?”

“Tonight.”

He continues opening the box, slowly, looking nervous as he takes out a flower. It’s a white and pink corsage. His takes my right wrist, slipping the elastic band over my now shaking hand.

“Aundrea, will you do me the honor of being my prom date this evening?”

“You got me a corsage?” I whisper, admiring the beautiful colors.

“It’s a lotus. Lotus means rebirth. I believe there are stages in our life, no matter our past or our age, which we deserve to be given a second chance at—a rebirth of something we missed out on. This is one of those second chances. An opportunity for you to experience something that you weren’t able to the first time.”

My eyes burn. How on earth did I get so lucky as to call the man before me my husband? I’ve spent every day thanking whoever is above for watching over me the day Parker walked into my life.

“I don’t know how it can’t be perfect with you as my date,” I say, leaning into him and wrapping my arms around his waist, pulling us closer together.

“I want tonight to be flawless for you. I want to give you the most perfect damned prom you’ve ever dreamed of.”

Prom. It’s just a word to some. But for me, it’s a key. A key that unlocks a painful memory and lets it free.

Clipping the last piece of my curled hair back into a low bun at the nape of my neck, I take in the sleek dress that clings to my body.

“I don’t want to rush perfection, but are you ready?” Parker calls from the living room.

“Two more seconds.”

I apply a last swipe of lip-gloss, one more coat of mascara, and a little pink glimmer blush. I know this isn’t my prom, but tonight is my night, so I’m going to look the best I can.