In the middle of what would be—I hoped—a child’s bedroom, I turned to face him. “We’re really going to live here?” “Of course we are.” His arms came around me. “And have a family?” “Of course we are. If biology isn’t on our side, we’ll adopt. I don’t care how we get our family, I just want to have one with you.” Slipping my arms around his waist, I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes. “We’re going to be happy here, Mrs. Moretti,” he said, rocking me side to side. “We’re going to fill this house with a bunch of noisy, messy kids who are going to drive us crazy, but we’re going to be
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