Page 87 of Texting My Valentine

“I think it’s perfect,” Lily says. “Cupid brought them together the first time, and little Cadence has made them fall in love even more.”

“I wish I could say you guys make me sick,” Cleo says. “But it’s actually very sweet.”

“I knew we’d break down your walls one day,” I tease.

“Can I hold her?” Cleo asks.

“Of course. She loves Auntie Cleo.”

“Not as much as Auntie Lily, though,” Lily giggles.

My phone buzzes. I take it out, a thrill of nostalgia touching me as it always does. My husband has sent me a selfie of him in surgical scrubs.

Alex:Not long until we can begin our Valentine’s celebrations, my perfect poet. I love you.

“Hey, do you mind?” I ask Cleo.

She laughs, clutching Cadence to her chest. “Yes, actually, I do. I think I’m going to keep her.”

“Careful,” Lily says. “She might shoot you with one of her Cupid arrows. Then you’re really screwed.”

Cleo grins and hands me my baby girl. We called her Cadence as a tribute to the significance slam poetry played in our romance… the cadences we took on stage, the cadences we take with our love.

Holding my daughter, I take a selfie with the sea in the background.

Tori:We can’t wait to see you, and we’re both very proud of you for working so hard. I love you.

I sit down, clutching my daughter to my chest, feeling so much love flow between us; sometimes, it feels unreal. That’s a common theme in this new, bright, wonderful life of mine. I tried so hard to talk my way out of this happiness, letting the ingrained doubt and distrust misshape me.

But in the end, love found a way.

“I know that look,” Cleo says.

“One hundred percent,” Lily agrees. “Do you want me to hold the little Cupid so you can get your poetry book?”

I laugh. “You know me too well…”

EPILOGUE

ALEX

Ten Years Later

Itype, sitting beside Piper’s bed because she had a nightmare. Our daughter is now sleeping with the blanket pulled up around her chin, but I don’t want to leave her just yet.

Alex:I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you.It wasn’t the first text, the first kiss, or even the first time we spoke, my perfect poet. It was the first time I LOOKED at you. I knew, right then, that you were the woman for me. I knew my search was over. Maybe part of me even knew you might stubbornly try to pretend you didn’t feel it, too, but love was already in my heart. I couldn’t ignore it. I knew there was no going back, and I’d never want to. I can’t wait to celebrate our anniversary tomorrow. I love you.

I set my phone down, smiling when Cadence pokes her head into the bedroom.

“Is she okay, Daddy? I heard yelling.”

“She had a nightmare.”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Come here, angel.”

She smiles and walks across the room, smiling at the baby monitor resting on Piper’s bedside table. Our third child, Theo, is sleeping soundly in his crib.

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