Reeve sits on the edge of the couch while Em is on the floor between his legs, her attention solely focused on Rosie and trying to get her to say “Em.”
She’s only just started saying “Mama,” but I don’t want to crush Em’s dreams, so I stay silent.
Owen’s arms are wrapped around my waist while he holds me tight against him, the news of his impending adoption of Rosie the highlight of the night as soon as we walked in. Owen has been absolutely beaming ever since. I’m not sure what it would take to wipe the grin off his face, not that I want to.
Hugo and Louis, Owen and Reeve’s brothers, are chatting about their respective unis, but I suspect their interest lies more in the girl I heard Hugo mention earlier. An American girl he met at a pub a few months ago, reminding me of another couple I know.
“Okay, everyone, dinner in five! Take your seats,” Evie calls.
Everyone starts moving to the table, Rosie bolting away from Em and shakily walking to a few books tilting out of the shelf.
“I got her,” I tell Em so she and Reeve can sit down.
She takes his hand and leads him into the dining room with the others, leaving us to get Rosie.
Owen links his fingers with my own and we walk over to our girl. She doesn’t hesitate to come running toward him, her grabby hands reaching out. “Dadda!”
The moment catapults me back to when Rosie first said that magical word to him.
Owen and I are lounging on the grass at Hyde Park, enjoying an afternoon in the sun with Rosie, when it happens. “Dadadadada,” she babbles, her gaze set on Owen.
“Holy shit,” I whisper as Owen’s eyes widen.
“Did you hear that?” He turns to me, a look of awe splashed across his face.
I nod, mouth open.
He doesn’t hesitate, scooping her up in his arms and cradling her to his body.
“I am your dada, Rosie.”
Her hands cup his face, her round head tilting to the side as she looks him over, pinching parts of his skin. He just takes it, completely mesmerized by her.
I blink a few times, attempting to rid myself of the tears coating my eyes. If I ever had any doubts of Owen’s permanence in my life, that one word from Rosie squashed them in an instant.
I snap back into the present, my body warm from the memories of that day. My sight sets upon the two people whom my days end and begin for.
“It still doesn’t feel real,” he whispers without looking at me.
I come up to his side, leaning my head against his shoulder as my hand rises to play with her curls.
“Sometimes I wake up and wonder if this is all just a really good dream,” I admit. I never thought being a mum would be in the cards for me, especially this early in life. Yet now that it’s happened, I find it impossible to imagine any other scenario.
“I know the feeling.”
“You changed everything for me, Owen. You revived me.”
His grip on me tightens. “No, Lottie, you revived me first. You gave me the family I’ve always wanted, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“I don’t need thanks, puppy. I just need you.”
He bends down, connecting his lips with my own. I don’t hesitate to reach up and link my free hand through his hair before a small hand grabs my face.
We pull apart, laughing as Rosie eyes us both, clearly upset to be left out.
“I love you, Charlotte Knight.”
“Not more than I love you, Owen Bower.”
Years Later
Owen
“Daddy, you can’t catch me!” Rosie screams as she runs past me, the wind seizing her blonde ringlets with each step. The hem of her red tartan dress is covered in mud from our backyard antics all afternoon and we’ve no doubt left footprints on the kitchen tile, but neither of us seems to mind.
“Be careful!” Lottie calls out from the steps of the garden, Leo on her hip. He eyes his sister, clearly jealous of her ability to run around when his eight-month-old legs have yet to master it. Unlike Rosie, who was blessed with an abundance of curls from birth, he only has a patch of brown fur on his bald little head, but his eyes are a duplicate of hers.
“I’m okay, Mumma!” Rosie calls back. “I promise!” Grabbing onto the ladder of her tree house that Steve built her last Christmas, she begins her ascent to the top.
It was only a matter of time for Lottie and me to realize the apartment life wasn’t great for our little girl. After her third birthday we got a place a little outside central London. Although the commute is longer and we don’t see everyone as much as before, it’s worth it because it means we get to have this house, this home. Plus, Stana and Ali seem to be looking for a place around here, their growing family needing more room than their two-bedroom flat can provide.
“Hey, puppy,” Lottie calls to me. The old nickname occasionally makes a reappearance. It brings me back to where it all started with her. Who would have thought Saint Street would bring so many people together?
I look to Lottie and raise my shoulder. She rolls her eyes, but I see the grin peeking out. I walk over to her and take Leo from her arms, giving him a big wet kiss on the cheek.
“How’s my little lad doing today?” I ask. He replies by taking my cheeks in his hands and smushing them together, something Rosie used to do.
“Everything okay at work?” I ask.
Lottie lifts a shoulder. “As okay as it can be without me there. But I’m sure Liz can handle it.”
Around two years ago Lottie bought a local pharmacy ten minutes from our home. It was no small purchase, and a risk for sure, but so far it’s been paying off. She’s never been happier, and I’ve never been prouder.
Since then, I’ve become
