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Another boundary we held onto was knowing when to give one another room, letting the other person breathe without the shadow of abandonment hanging over us.

With our therapist guiding us, we stayed real about the grind of our long-term commitment and the power of choosing forgiveness again and again.

There were times I thought I’d never have the life I dreamed of for years.

Yet now, I have everything I ever wanted, with this woman in my arms.

Hell, it was surreal and satisfying to end up with the girl I’d been obsessed with forever.

We’d mastered the art of loving each other the way we deserved, understanding and respecting how the other dealt with conflict, tension, and difficult decisions.

It wasn’t always easy, but we had an awesome son, thriving careers, and the fierce backing of our friends as we built our future and our eternity, day by day.

Still, one quiet question lingered.

I mulled over the suitable words, aware the topic was still somewhat sensitive between Ana and me.

‘Babe, been thinking,’ I said. ‘How should we honor Estella?’

Her fingers stilled for a split second, then resumed their slow, soothing glide over my skin.

‘We’ve both kept her ashes in those brass urns, but I don’t know how else to pay tribute to her,’ I continued. You’re the only one who ever sensed her, felt her move, carried her life. What do you think, mama?’

‘I hear you, Vega,’ Ana whispered, her chest rising as she took a deep breath. ‘Why don’t we let her fly?’

I pulled back, leaning up on my forearms on the bed to meet her gaze. ‘

Babe?’

‘Why don’t we scatter her remains?’ Ana murmured. ‘Set her free.’

‘Are you ready for that step?’ I asked, scanning her face.

‘I think I am,’ she replied, a gentle smile touching her lips.

So, on a bright Saturday morning a week later, we drove out to Old Hickory Beach, the stretch of sand where we’d spent our all-night first date.

We brought two precious bundles with us, the twin urns of our baby’s ashes, and Raff as well.

We both held his hands as we walked from my truck toward the shoreline.

‘Hey buddy,’ I said, pausing near the tall dune grass. ‘Ready to say our final goodbyes to Estella?’

We’d primed him a few nights ago about the trip and explained the reasons.

Raff glanced between us, his expression sober but remarkably mature.

‘Let’s do it.’

‘We’re giving her back to the wind,’ Ana added, squeezing his shoulder. ‘We’re so happy you’re part of this, Raff.’

We strolled over the sand, with Raff bending down to collect wild clover and pale river lilies in the grass along the way.

We climbed the eastern ridge, eventually reaching a quiet spot atop a hill overlooking the entire sparkling waterway.

A weathered cedar bench stood facing the water.

We sat down, with Raff between us two as the breeze whipped through our shirts.