“It’s fine. Honestly.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips, not wanting him to feel guilty for leaving.

I remembered one evening when we’d only been dating a couple weeks, it began to snow. We still lived in Seattle then, and snow was unusual enough that we decided to go for a walk. The snow fell softly, clumping into our eyelashes and melting on our lips. I’d stopped walking, drinking in the sight of this man I already loved more than I’d ever thought possible.

I’m so lucky to have you, I’d thought, and then I said it out loud, just so he knew.

He had gently brushed a flake from my cheek and bent to kiss me tenderly. At that moment, I felt such a deep sense of belonging. He reached for my hand and pulled me against him.

“Come here, mo chuisle.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It’s Irish for my heartbeat or my heart. My dad used to say it to my mom.”

“That’s so sweet…” I struggled to think of a cute reply, then flashed back to my high school French. “… mon homme,” I blurted.

We both burst out laughing. “Sorry,” I said between gasps of laughter. “I’m crap at being a girlfriend. This is all just so new to me!”

“Then why don’t you be my wife instead?”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. School and then the hospital were the only constants I’d had until I met Nate, kindhearted, loyal, cheerful Nate. His optimism and his love for his family were infectious, and I ached to be a part of it. He would love me, protect me. We’d get married, have a family, grow old together. I’d never felt that way before, and it was magic.

“Yes,” I breathed.

I’d found out a week later I was pregnant, and when I read the DNA results I knew exactly what I needed to do. The instant I told him, Nate proposed a second time. My face was covered in snot and tears, my heart aching, but somehow that second time was even more romantic than the first.

We were married just a couple months later.

Nate was a good man. But all his good qualities meant I couldn’t tell him what I was doing now. He wouldn’t understand, and he certainly wouldn’t agree.

I wrapped my arms around Nate’s waist, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. He dropped his chin onto my head and exhaled heavily.

“You’re exhausted,” I said. “Just go home and get some sleep. I’m fine sleeping on the couch here. And anyway, you have to work tomorrow.”

“All right,” he finally agreed. His breath was warm against my hair. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Sure. Love you.”

Nate kissed me good-bye and stumbled out of the room, bleary-eyed and exhausted.