Page 138 of Pregnant in Plaid

We stand there, watching our daughter sleep, planning a future that six months ago I couldn't have imagined. A wedding. More kids. Growing old together in this cabin in Alaska, surrounded by friends and family and the life we're building together.

"Hey Trace?" Patrice says quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Even though you pack the diaper bag wrong."

"Even though you reorganize it every single time."

She kisses me, soft and sweet, and Brooklyn sleeps on, peaceful and safe.

Brooklyn sighs in her sleep, one tiny hand curled into a fist, and Patrice's fingers find mine in the dark.

"You okay?" she whispers.

"Yeah." I pull her closer, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and baby lotion and home. "More than okay."

And I am.