He's never looked better.
“How's she doing?” I ask.
“She’s holding her head up and looking like a little turtle trying to wiggle about.” He chuckles and glances at his watch, the same one that's been tracking his health for six years. “And I need to take my meds. Can you take her?”
I scoop up Emma while Seth stands with a slight groan. His back isn't what it used to be, especially after getting down on the floor with the kids all morning. He heads to the bathroom, where his pill organizer is tucked away in a child-proof drawer.
I hear the beep of the blood pressure monitor while I'm settling Emma in her bouncer. A moment later, Seth appears in the doorway.
“117 over 75,” he reports.
“Perfect.”
“Always is these days.” He crosses to me, presses a kiss to my forehead. “How's the wellness retreat planning going?”
“Good. We're fully booked. I had to turn away three people.”
He smiles. “That's a good problem to have.”
It is. The resort has been thriving beyond our initial projections. The wellness programming I envisioned, yoga, meditation, guided hikes, and healthy cooking classes, has become our signature offering. We've expanded from six cabins to eight, added the yoga studio, and hired a staff of six.
And I run it all while raising two kids under five, which some days feels impossible and other days feels like exactly what I was meant to do.
“You up for a walk?” Seth checks his watch. “I haven't hit my movement goal yet today.”
Six years, and he still tracks everything. Steps, heart rate, sleep quality, and blood pressure. Seth also takes hismedications twice a day without fail and sees his cardiologist every six months.
Some battles you win by never stopping fighting.
“Absolutely. Owen, go grab your shoes.”
Owen abandons his truck and races off to his room.
While Owen is off getting his sneakers, Seth grabs one of the baby slings from the hooks in the entranceway and, with minimal help from me, wraps it around himself and secures Emma to his chest. My baby-wearing husband, there’s no sexier sight in the world.
Some people say they wouldn't change anything about their past.
I would. I'd change the years Seth spent killing himself for a company. The time my father spent working himself to death and missed out on me growing up and getting to see his grandchildren. I’d change all the pain, fear, and uncertainty.
But I wouldn't change where it brought us.
To this resort. This life. This love.
To morning walks and blood pressure checks and the steady, precious rhythm of choosing to be here for each other. Every single day.
That's what needing the wrong guy, and having him become exactly the right guy, looks like.
And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
THE END
