After we married, everything felt perfect. We bought our little house in Maplewood with the white fence and big oak tree in the backyard. It was just like I’d drawn in my notebooks as a kid.
Garrett got promoted to regional manager, while I kept my job at the marketing firm downtown.
We talked about starting a family, and about painting the spare room yellow for a nursery. The color we picked was called “Sunrise Glow,” and it felt like a promise.
When Nora was born five years ago, I thought we’d hit the happiest time ever. Garrett cried when he held her first.
He whispered to her tiny face, “Daddy’s going to take care of you and Mommy forever.” I believed him completely, not knowing he’d break that promise a few years later.
Those early years with our little girl were everything I’d dreamed.
Garrett would come home from work and scoop Nora up, spinning her around till she laughed nonstop. We’d have family movie nights on Fridays, all three of us on the couch with popcorn and blankets.
“We’re so lucky,” I’d tell him as we watched Nora sleep in her crib. “Look what we built together.”
He’d squeeze my hand and nod. “This is exactly what I always wanted.”