Michael turned, heart racing. Sarah stood there, tears shining, holding a bouquet of sunflowers—Jessica’s favorite. She’d come to seek her sister’s guidance, her own love for Michael blooming. He stepped out, closing the gate, and pulled her into his arms, her head fitting perfectly against him.
— Now it’s all gonna be right. The way it’s meant to be.
They married the next spring in a lakeside park, cherry blossoms falling, Lake Michigan’s waves a soft backdrop. Lily and Sophie, in matching lavender dresses, scattered petals with glee, while vows of love and forgiveness rang out under a gazebo, Clara sobbing happily into her handkerchief.
A year later, they welcomed baby Ethan, named for Michael’s grandfather, his cries filling the nursery with life. Clara beamed, cooing over the crib.
— Three kids? I’ve got this—no sweat!
When Michael suggested an extra nanny, she bristled.
— No way. This is our family—tight-knit, strong. I’ll keep it that way.
Michael laughed, pulling everyone—Sarah, the girls, Ethan, Clara—into a warm, chaotic hug as the sun set over the Chicago skyline in a blaze of gold and crimson.
— “Our family”—damn, that’s perfect. More than I ever dreamed of.