Page 125 of Affinity

When she was seventeen, Chloe wished she belonged to this man. And she did belong to him. Heart. Body. Soul.

When she grew up, the only thing she wished for was to be loved by Jesse. And she was loved by him. Purely. Unconditionally. Thoughtfully.

And she wished for a puppy. She got two.

She loved her life, her baby, her husbands and what they shared together. And she didn’t give a fuck what anyone had to say about it. Let the haters hate.

Chloe was happy.

They were happy.

Maybe life hadn’t given her exactly what she wished for when she was seventeen, and maybe love wasn’t exactly the way she had imagined it would be.

But she was lucky.

Because sometimes you get more than you ever wished for, and a love so much bigger and so much better than you even dreamed of.

One year later

Chandan toddled through the grass on his chubby little legs, clutching his tiny toy guitar with one hand. Jesse followed behind him, ready to catch him if he took a tumble. He’d been walking for a couple of months now, and he did pretty well on his own, but he stayed close by just in case. Chloe liked to tease Jesse and call him helicopter dad.

He was no such thing. Was it wrong to prevent broken bones? He sure didn’t think so.

Jesse heard the patio door open. Roman and Timo bounded across the lawn, coming to a halt beside his son. Chand dropped his guitar to hold onto Roman’s thick fur. Jesse smiled. A boy and his dog.

His life was as he’d always imagined. Dreamt of. Wished for.

The patio door opened again and Taylor poked his head out. “Jesse, come inside. Chloe wants to have the cake now.”

She’s the one who sent him outside with Chand in the first place. He knew what she was up to, though. He smelled deliciousness coming from the kitchen this morning, but he pretended not to notice. He figured she wanted whatever she was baking to be a surprise. Chloe was always spoiling them and made a fuss over little things like their birthdays.

And Jesse was thirty today.

He picked up Chandan’s toys from the grass—his plastic guitar and a squishy miniature football. Then he picked up his son and carried him inside the house and down the hall to the dining room where they’d spent their wedding night in a gigantic bed.

Jesse smiled at the memory of it. He did every time they were in here.

Chloe and Taylor stood at one end of the room. She held the cake on a plate lit with candles.

He sat at the chair festooned with streamers and balloons with Chandan on his lap, waving his toys in his hands.

Taylor put his arm around her as they walked to him singing “Happy Birthday”. The baby banged his guitar on the table to the rhythm of the tune.

Please, don’t let him be a drummer.

Then they were standing beside him. Chloe, his beautiful wife, was beaming. “Make a wish, baby.”

But he already had everything he ever wished for. Except perhaps for a little girl as beautiful as her mother. A daughter for them. A little sister for Chandan.

So he wished and blew out all the candles.

“What kind of cake is it, babe?”

I bet it’s carrot cake.

“It’s a special cake.”

She handed him a knife to cut the first slice. It was pink. The cake was pink inside covered in white frosting.

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