“I know. And when I say this all out loud, it sounds fucking ridiculous. I mean, how was any of that real? But it was. This was our life. And we made it this far, and I just—I fucking love you, Otter. I love you because, no matter what happened, no matter what got thrown at us, you made sure to shield us as best you could. You’re my husband, okay? And my best friend. And I want to get you pregnant. Fuck. Not you. I want to get someone else pregnant. And not by having sex with them! By having the doctor put some jizz in a vagina, or however that works, because honestly? I’m not really clear on the specifics yet. Like. Is it a turkey baster? Is that a real thing? Because that sounds disgusting. So. Here. This is yours. You made most of it, but since we’re going back to Oregon, I updated it. Just. Flip to the page I marked with that sticky note I had to use because I couldn’t find the stupid I’m completely anal tabs that you used.”

And then I thrust his binder at him.

He gaped up at me.

“Take it!” I demanded.

He did. He reached up slowly and took the binder from me. He set it in his lap, and even though I thought I should sit back down next to him, I couldn’t figure out how to make my legs work. So I stood above him. Like an idiot.

He ran his hand reverently over the cover of the binder before opening it and flipping to the page I’d marked.