Page 152 of When Fate Breaks

Though we had more money from Kyle than either of us would ever need, we chose to live modestly. As weird as it may sound, we both loved working. We both love what we do. There was no sense in spending the money when it wasn’t needed. That decision was even more solidified just after our first wedding anniversary, when those two little red lines appeared on that white stick.You’re giving me a baby, Jacks?Blake had breathed, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around my waist to pull his belly against his face, kissing it.Oh my God, we’re having a baby, Jacks!I was in such shock that all I could do was nod and laugh, mumblingBaby Jacksover and over like a lunatic. It stuck.

Baby Jacks.

Jackson was the reason we lived modestly. That money was for him. And maybe for his future brother or sister as well. We haven’t gotten there yet, though. One step at a time.

I often think about how the moment my life just began to go right was the moment I stopped planning it or thinking about it and just let it happen. The irony attempts to slap me in the face daily, and I let it. I don’t care. I’m so happy.We’reso happy. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

“It’s really, really good,” I finally say, answering Leah’s question.

“I’m so happy for you,” she says genuinely, smiling and placing her hand on top of mine.

“How about you–”

“Mommy!” A sweet squeaky voice cuts me off, causing both Leah and I to turn in its direction. “I’m going outside! Be back in–Hey! Who areyou?”

The little girl skids to a stop right in front of the coffee table, directly across from Jackson. He looks up at her slowly, his green eyes peering through his curls. “Jacks,” he says quickly, before immediately returning to his coloring book.

My feet move before I can stop them, and I’m slowly drifting to stand behind the couch, watching the scene. I vaguely register Blake in my peripheral vision, walking back inside from the garage and heading for the fridge.

“Callie, this is Jackson Di Fazio. Aunt Annie and Uncle Blake’s son. Do you remember meeting them all last year?” Leah asks her four-year-old daughter from her same spot in the kitchen.

“No,” Callie says, putting her hands on her hips. So sassy.

Like mother, like daughter.

“What are you doing?” Callie asks, taking a step closer to Jacks.

“Coloring,” Jacks replies flatly, far too focused on shading in the feathers on a parrot to give Callie the time of day. This would probably be a good parenting moment, but I seem to be frozen in place.

“What are you coloring?” Callie asks, scrunching her nose as she leans down to look at the page.

“Pirates,” Jacks replies. Finally, he looks up at her. “Do you want one?” he asks, holding up the book and flipping through the pages to show her the options.

“Mmm…No, thanks,” Callie replies.

Jacks shrugs his shoulders in response, flipping back to the page he was on and continuing to color.

“Wanna go outside?” she asks him.

“No. I’m coloring.”

“But we can go hunt for buried treasure! Instead of just coloring pirates, you could be a pirate for real!”

Jacks brows scrunch together as he looks at Callie. “Pirates aren’t real.”

“Sure they are!” Callie says, throwing her hands in the air.

“No, they aren’t,” Jacks insists.

Callie plops down on her knees suddenly, leaning forward towards Jacks. “Yes theyARRR, Matey!” she growls, motioning her hand like a hook.

Her and Jacks both stare at each other blankly for several seconds before they both burst out in giggles.

“You’re weird,” Jacks says.

Callie scoffs. “No,you!”

My mouth falls open at the same moment a hand claps my shoulder. I flinch, turning to see Blake holding two beers. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, untwisting the cap of one bottle and handing it to me.

“I’m not!” I whisper-shout.

“Uh huh,” Blake says, tilting his head at me, his lips pulled into a smirk. “Well, don’t bother. If history’s told us anything, we won’t have any control over it anyways.”

I glance over my shoulder to see Jacks following Callie out the front door, plastic toy treasure chest in tow. I swallow hard, blinking away the odd burning sensation in my eyes and rubbing at the wave of nostalgia swirling in my chest.

“I know,” I breathe, turning back to Blake. “And that’s okay.” I hold out my beer bottle to my husband. “Let’s leave it to fate?”

Blake clinks his bottle to mine, then presses a kiss to my lips.

“To fate.”