Two Years Later

Megan cradled her bump as she waddled towards me with her toddler on her hip. Sometimes it was impossible to ignore the resemblance that little Lottie held to Kevin. It was striking. But thank the heavens above, she was far better looking than him. Considering she wasn't even two, she had a decent head of pale blonde ringlets and at the moment, her eyes were a steel grey.

"Lottie was asking for you," Megan said when she stopped in front of me. I took my little sister and spun her around so fast that she burst into breathless giggles. "Phoenix is parking the car. Grace couldn't come though, she said to tell you—"

Megan started signing and I watched, my smile widening at the message. Congratulations on the launch of your foundation Bea. Lots of love.

"Aw. That's so sweet," I said, clutching my chest. I'd decided to learn sign language considering Grace was a constant in our life now and it was amazing how much of a difference it made to a deaf person when you could easily communicate with them. It'd been useful on more than one occasion. "How come she couldn't come?"

"She's not well at the moment. She has the flu and she didn't want to spread it."

"Fair enough," I said, watching Lottie twisting the thin gold chain around my neck. There was a small dinky ring attached to the chain. The same ring that Dylan used when he took one knee in front of me and asked me to be his wife. It was the same ring that we'd used when we got 'married' in Vegas.

It had sentimental value and meant as much to me as the dazzling diamond that sat on my special finger, looking so pretentious that I had to resist the urge to sell it whenever I saw it. I wouldn't of course, Dylan surprised me with it on our first wedding anniversary. It is beautiful albeit snobbish, but still beautiful.

"This has come together so well," Megan stood beside me and peered around the room.

It was the opening of the Cassandra Haynes Foundation. As much as I liked the idea of being able to abbreviate the name to CBF, because let's face it, Can't Be Fucked is my mood, I couldn't stomach using Kevin's last name in association with mom. So Blake was out and I'd settled on using her maiden name instead.

I was moments from making a speech at the makeshift podium, there were people everywhere, snacking at the catering tables or wandering the outside of the room and looking at the photographs that lined the walls. With the help of my wonderful husband, I'd been able to purchase a two story building on the edge of Manhattan. It was run down and falling to pieces which made it rather affordable and I'd done a lot of the renovations myself along with the help of friends.

The floors were a dark stained wood and the walls were faux brick. It had a rustic feel to it. The ground floor had a kitchen, sofas, desks, photographs and shelves of books. The second floor had a studio for photos and seven oversized bedrooms that had about four bunk beds each.

"I'm here," Phoenix appeared through the crowd and leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. He and Megan looked like a walking Abercrombie commercial. She was wearing a pale blue maxi dress that fell like a sheet of silk down the length of her figure and Phoenix was wearing a fitted button up that hugged his muscular frame and a pair of shorts.

No two people could look more genetically destined to reproduce than these two. I imagined this next baby coming out to a red carpet and the tune of harps.

"Where's Dylan?" Phoenix asked. The two of them had soon become a match made in bromance heaven. Watching the sports channel in our living room with beer, wings and childlike enthusiasm had become a regular in our household.

"He's around here somewhere."

"He's in the kitchen monitoring the caterers, isn't he?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "He is. He can't help himself."

Megan and Phoenix laughed and even their laughs sounded harmonic. Lottie stretched out her arms for Phoenix and babbled about daddy needing to go and find her water. She sounded so cute when she said it though. Waaada? Phoenix was more than willing to abide and the two of them drifted off toward the beverage table.

The admiration that I had for that man was through the roof. He stepped into the role of Lottie's father so well. He was all she'd known. He'd been there since before she was born. Megan and Phoenix has fallen in love hard and fast, sealing their relationship as official when she was around thirty four weeks. As far as anyone was concerned, Lottie's father was Phoenix.

The man who had held Megan's hand through childbirth. The man who had arranged the nursery and stocked it with diapers and wipes. The man who had decided to sleep over the night that Megan came home from the hospital with Lottie and never left again. The man who came home from nightshift and had breakfast ready for his girls most morning. The man who financially did his bit for his little girl and kissed her ouchies and cuddled her when she was frightened and loved her exactly how a father should love his child. Unconditionally. He was so good to my little sister.

"How was the scan? Bubba good?"

Megan leaned a palm on the table behind us and nodded. "Yeah it was just a routine sort of thing. Ya know. Check the vitals and all of that. We just have to do it a bit more regularly because of the history of birth defects on Phoenix's side. I hate that phrase though. Birth defects. Like the child is a defect because it might have some differences."

"True. Rude. Kevin is a defect. No one monitored Lottie the entire pregnancy."

Megan giggled but still shook her head with disapproval. She was such a mom.

"This little man is fine anyway. Healthy, happy, kicking. A lot." She rubbed her ribs as if to prove that she was in fact suffering constant assault at the hands of a pint sized glob.

"A boy," I thought aloud with wander. "He's going to be gorgeous. The genes. It's not fair."

"You'd have a gorgeous child too," she raised a brow.

"Mmmm. You're right. But I'm not there right now."

Although I'd come around to the idea of being a mother in the future, I was still hesitant about bringing another life into the world knowing that I would be responsible for its upbringing and life. That was a lot of pressure. Raising an entire human being and having the outcome of who they grow into on your shoulders. Yikes. I wasn't totally confident that I wouldn't screw it all up and raise a wreck.

Still, I knew how much Dylan wanted to be a father, so I was working on it.

Across the room, I saw Dylan and Brecken emerging from the kitchen, chatting and laughing. Brecken had his son, Tommy, on his arm while Tommy chewed on a cookie. Lizzie and Lily were around here too, last I saw the girls were in the play room which was a crowd favourite with the children. I was quietly proud about how well I designed that room considering the most I know about kids is that they're demanding and loud and seem perfectly content with a face full of boogers dribbling into their mouth.

Ho and Allie were admiring the photographs on the wall while Ho carried their newborn in a sling wrap on his chest. Dylan's mom and dad had shown up. In fact, almost everyone that I'd invited had shown up. It was an incredible turn out and I looked over the crowd with pride in what I'd created.

Dylan appeared in front of me in a tailored pair of slacks and a button up shirt, the top buttons undone, just how I prefer, and his sleeves rolled up. He knew what made me tick and he accommodated so well. His dimples appeared as he grinned and looked down at me with obvious pride.

"Good turn out," he kissed my cheek and stood beside me with his arm around my waist. "You should be proud."

"I am," I tugged on the collar of my dress. It was beautiful. White, fifties inspired with a collar and knee length skirt that swished with each movement. The floral patterns were subtle but elegant. I'd had it designed by a young local Spanish girl that I found on Instagram. I couldn't believe that she was the one that actually created the clothing. She was barely fifteen but she had talent coming out of her ears.

"I hope there's enough food," I said. "I wasn't expecting this many people."

"I was," Dylan winked at me. "No stress. There's tons of food."

I moved around to stand in front of him and secured my hands behind his back. "Ugh, what would I do without you?"

"Well," he peered over my head, his hand sliding into my long waves. "You'd be presenting the opening of an incredible women's refuge home and hiring some caterer to handle the food because you've never needed me. I'm just so damn happy that you want me."

My lip quivered when he looked down and met my gaze. "Don't make me cry. I'm about to make a speech."

He grinned and lowered his face to mine so that we could kiss. As usual, it made the world slow down and speed up all at the same time.

"Mmm," I savoured the moment after our lips parted and then I inhaled a deep breath because he stole the air from my lungs. "I should make this speech and then we can disappear for a while. No one will notice."

He bit down on his lip and it made my stomach knot. "Go on then. Come back quick," he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on my neck. "I'll be waiting."

A shiver tore through me and I put some space between us so that I could make it to the podium without abandoning this entire thing and running off with my husband. Husband. I still couldn't get over the fact that my favourite person in the entire world was now my husband. I would never take it for granted. It was the best thing that's ever happened to me.

I stepped to podium, tapped on the microphone and cleared my throat in order to gain the attention of the few hundred people that were talking. It took a few moments but eventually the crowd became compact in front of me and the room grew quiet.

"Hey, welcome, thanks for being here this morning. I'm Bea Archer and it is my absolute pleasure to be presenting the Cassandra Haynes Foundation to you."

I paused when applause echoed throughout the ground floor.

"This foundation represents what my mother, Cassandra Haynes, was so passionate about, helping. That's as simple as it was for her. To help people. Whether that was with a small conversation or offering advice or donating to one of the many charities that she supported or even doing something as big as taking a child into her home, and loving her as if she were her own."

My breath caught when I thought about how much mom would have loved this foundation.

"So, what does the Cassandra Haynes Foundation provide? Well, for starters, this building. We're opening this home to woman and children, even men, who need a home due to an abusive relationship, or poverty, or perhaps unsupported teen parents. We're here to put a roof over those in need. We have a commercial kitchen, multiple bathrooms, communal bedrooms, a playroom, a living area, a small library and most importantly, volunteers to offer advice, support and educators to help people gain qualifications or complete school."

Another applause.

"We hope to open more homes across New York in the next two years and long term, right across the country. We couldn't do this without volunteers and sponsors including Megan Southee, Dylan Archer. Judy and Allen Archer..." I listed off a few dozen names and organisations that financially contributed toward the building and running of the home.

"So again, I'm so thankful to those people who have made my dream come to life. I feel so blessed to know that I can do something that my mom would have been so proud of. She'd have wanted to be part of this venture and I believe, deep down, that she is standing here with me, enthusiastically cheering me on. Change begins with helping those in need. So let's have some good food, courtesy of my wonderful husband, and celebrate new beginnings. Together."

As cheering and applause broke out, I took Dylan's outstretched hand and laughed when he pulled me into his chest and squeezed me hard. "I love you. Bea, I love you. So much."

"I love you too."

Later that evening I sat on the kitchen island while Dylan moved from surface to surface, cutting up different ingredients, stirring hot pots on the element and focusing so hard that he had a little pinch in his brow. I loved his focus face. All of his features sharpened and made him look more chiselled. Such a stud.

"Opening night and there are eighteen people at the home tonight," I said, reading an update on my phone. I was about to continue reading when Dylan stopped in front of me, held a cube of seasoned chicken in front of my face and dropped it into my mouth when I opened it.

"How's it?"

"Perfect," I smiled and chewed. He kissed me and then gestured that I continue.

"Mara said that there are thirteen children and their mother's and a young teen father knocked on the door asking for a bed for him and his eighteen month old daughter."

"Aw," Dylan diced up a handful of lettuce. "Rough. Good on him for reaching out though. Mara will set them up."

Mara was my acting manager. We decided to share shifts as there needed to be someone at the home at all hours. As well as security detail so that ex partners couldn't show up and cause trouble.

"Yep apparently he asked if men were allowed in the home when he arrived," I said. "I should probably clarify that we're all inclusive. I don't want to sound ignorant."

Dylan chuckled and abandoned his meal prep so that he could stand between my legs, I wrapped them around his waist and grinned, pushing his warm brown locks off his forehead. "You don't sound ignorant. You'll learn a bunch of stuff as you progress with this project. This incredibly, selfless, project that will change lives. Don't be so hard on yourself, yeah?"

My hands clasped behind his neck and I looked at the most familiar face that I'd ever known. I saw years of friendship and memories. I saw those months that I spent in love with him, worried that he wouldn't feel the same. All of those nights, scared that I would lose him if I told him how I felt. It was hard to imagine that we were those people. So much had changed and it was the best change that I'd ever experienced. I married my best friend. It was him and I for the rest of our lives.

The front door swung open from the living area and hit the wall with a thud, followed by scuttling feet and little babbles.

"It smells so damn good in here," Brecken shouted just as Lily came tearing around the corner in a cute little powder blue dress, her auburn curls in pigtails.

"Uncle. Uncle. Uncle," she dove into Dylan's embrace and I watched with admiration as he lifted her and held her close. "What's for dinner? Daddy said you were making my favourite but I have lots of favourites."

"You do, huh. Well, tonight it's chicken cesar salad, garlic bread." Lily gasped with excitement. "And fries for your aunt who has the most basic tastebuds on the planet."

I frowned when Dylan and Lily looked at me with the giggles. Too cute. Brecken wandered in and pointed over his shoulder.

"Lizzie is feeding Tommy in the spare bedroom," he leaned a palm on the countertop beside me. "Hello gorgeous. Great speech today. You nail that whole responsible, change the world, business woman thing. So when are we going to hit off this affair with the husband's brother thing."

"What's an affair?" Lily tilted her head at her incorrigible father.

"It's something that will get your dad hurt,"
Dylan explained, glaring at Brecken.

"I think Lizzie is calling me," Breck rapped his knuckles on our marble bench top and spun on his heel so that he could make a dramatic exit from the kitchen. Even though Breck confessed that his major in douchebaggery was just his way of turning me off, he was in the habit of making passes and it had never let up. Of course we all knew it was just a laugh.

Dylan got back to his meal so that he could put the final touches on the food and lily stood on a barstool so that she could help dress the salad and season the fries. My heart melted into a puddle while I watched Dylan gently explaining what she needed to do and helping her when she needed it. It's impossible to watch the two of them and not imagine it being our own child.

Which is the reason that I was becoming more swayed into becoming a mother. My fear was due to the fact that for a long time, I'd been so incapable of looking after myself, how could I look after a little human being that entirely depended on me? But I felt more grounded now. More in control of erratic emotions and impulses. No, I wasn't perfect, but who is? And when I struggled, Dylan was right there and he would be an amazing father. He's nothing like Kevin and our child would not have the same cold relationship that he and I did.

"Babe?" I said. Dylan peered up and raised a brow. "You wanna be my baby daddy?"

His brows pinched for a moment but then, with realisation, his confusion turned into a splitting grin and he nodded.

"Absolutely."