Page 202 of The Perfect Love

“Except our eardrums,” Joel deadpans.

Yeah, truth.

“I’m all dona.” Brooke shoves the presents piled in front of her away.

“Honey, there are a bunch more to open.” I tap the one on top of the pile.

She shakes her head. “No. I want cupcakes. My birthday. I pick.”

I sigh and look at Trevor, who smiles and shrugs.

Our girl has him wrapped around her finger. Because it’s her birthday, I’m inclined to let her do what she wants, but Trevoris happy to bow down to her demands most days. He can be a disciplinarian, but he always looks like a kicked puppy when he watches her cry or have a tantrum.

“Cupcakes it is, then.”

Brooke’s already halfway to the dining room, everyone following her with the kids in the lead.

Rae falls into step with me. “Well, at least you know you’re raising a girl so strong, she’ll never be afraid to speak up for herself.”

I laugh at that. “Yes. Here’s hoping she uses it to lead and help others, not to run a drug cartel.”

We both laugh at that.

But really, I’m grateful. I want her to walk out into the world empowered, with her head held high, knowing she can make a difference and help create a better world than the one I grew up in. Every day I fight for her and all the other little girls growing up right now, but change takes time, especially in a world so filled with vitriol for women.

I want it to be better for her. While I hope she’s as compassionate as she is fierce, I don’t want her to have to walk my path to get there.

It doesn’t hit me as hard anymore when I talk about what I’ve been through. But seeing the person who raped me brought to justice helped with that. It took the shame off me and put it all on him. He deserves to carry every bit of it.

The trial ended up being when I was five months pregnant, and Jacinta used that to our advantage. Pregnancy makes a woman seem more vulnerable, she said, and while I think he would’ve been convicted easily either way, the jury only deliberated for ten minutes before returning with their verdict. He was sentenced to fifteen years in jail. I was shocked, but we had a judge who has always been a strong proponent on women’s issues. He deserves every day of the sentence. ThoughI’m sure he’ll get parole sooner. Either way, he gets to carry around the title of sex offender for the rest of his life. Good for him. He earned it.

Now it’s my mission to make sure there are fewer girls out there like me. I will fight every day of my life to make this world a better place for my daughter.

As I watch her, I know she’ll fight the same way.

I pull out my phone, ready to take pictures, but Liz waves me off. I appreciate that. Being present as a parent is important to me. I want to be in the pictures, not just take them. Though for a moment, I hang back and watch. The kids are all sitting around a small table, and Brooke is putting cupcakes in front of each of them while Emmie reminds everyone not to eat them until we sing happy birthday to Brooke.

I grab the lighter and hand it to Trevor once Brooke is seated with a cupcake in front of her.

After he lights the candles for her, he joins me again, all the while reminding her to wait to blow them out until we’ve sung.

Trevor wraps his arms around me from behind, and I lean against him as our family and friends surround us, singing to Brooke. My heart could burst at the amount of joy in this room. We are so lucky to have each and every person here in our lives.

I’m lucky I found Trevor when I did. Or maybe it was all part of fate’s plan. It’s hard to believe that when I think of the ways we could’ve met sooner, and how much longer we could’ve loved each other. But it doesn’t really matter. We’re here now. Right where we’re supposed to be.

We all clap and cheer as Brooke blows out the candles on her cupcake. Trevor goes to pull them out before she bites one like she did last year, and Brooke latches onto him, giving him a giant hug as he whispers to her.

He is the most amazing father I could’ve imagined for my daughter, and the best husband. Sometimes I can’t believe this is my life.

As Trevor comes to stand beside me, I reach over and pinch his arm. He turns to me with the best glare he can muster—which isn’t much.

“Are you ever going to stop pinching me?”

“Nope. When I have a moment where I think this can’t be real or it’s too good to be true, I pinch you. Then I see your smile and I know it’s real. The only fake thing about you is your grumpiness.”

He tries to put on that grumpy pout, but I see a lot less of it these days and I think he’s lost his touch.

“If it makes you happy and reminds you how special what we have is, you can pinch me every day.”

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