“Where do you think we’ll be on our twenty-fifth anniversary?” I ask.
“Together,” he says, matter-of-fact.
“Do you think we’ll ever leave Connecticut?”
He faces me. “Do you want to?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“I think about it sometimes,” he admits. “I’ve already got a few personal clients lined up. If I secured a few more, it would allow for that, but it probably wouldn’t pay as much. But we could travel for a year or two. Maybe longer if we enjoy it enough.”
This conversation reminds me of the night I spoke to my mother on the steps outside of her home. I don’t think I give her enough credit, but she’s right. I can spend my time focusing on the perfect version of the life I’ll never have or I can spend my time enjoying the life I do have. And the life I have would provide me with so much opportunity if I would get out of my own head long enough to chase those opportunities.
“I used to want to be so many things before I became obsessed with the idea of being a mother.”
Graham smiles sweetly at me. “I remember. You wanted to write a book.”
It’s been so long since I’ve talked about it, I’m surprised he remembers. “I did. I still do.”
He’s smiling at me when he turns to flip the rest of the pancakes. “What else do you want to do besides write a book?”
I move to stand next to him near the stove. He wraps one arm around me while he cooks with his other hand. I rest my head against his shoulder. “I want to see the world,” I say quietly. “And I would really like to learn a new language.”
“Maybe we should move here to Italy and piggyback off Ava’s language tutor.”
I laugh at his comment, but Graham sets down the spatula and faces me with an excited gleam in his eyes. He leans against the counter. “Let’s do it. Let’s move here. We have nothing tying us down.”
I tilt my head and eye him. “Are you serious?”
“It would be fun to try something new. And it doesn’t even have to be Italy. We can move anywhere you want.”
My heart begins to beat faster with the anticipation of doing something that insane and spontaneous.
“I do really like it here,” I say. “A lot. And I miss Ava.”
Graham nods. “Yeah, I kind of miss Reid. But don’t repeat that.”
I push myself up onto the counter next to the stove. “Last week I went for a walk and saw a cottage a few streets over for rent. We could try it out temporarily.”
Graham looks at me like he’s in love with the idea. Or maybe he’s looking at me like he’s in love with me. “Let’s go look at it today.”
“Okay,” I say, full of giddiness. I catch myself biting my cheek in an attempt to hide my smile, but I immediately stop trying to hide it. If there’s one thing Graham deserves, it’s for my happiness to be transparent. And this moment is the first moment in a long time I’ve felt this much happiness. I want him to feel it, too.
It’s like this is the first time I’ve truly felt like I might be okay. That we’ll be okay. It’s the first time I don’t look at him and feel guilty for everything I can’t give him because I know how grateful he is for everything I can give him. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything you said in your letters.”
He stands between my legs, placing his hands on my hips. I wrap my arms around his neck, and for the first time in a long time, I kiss my husband and feel full of gratitude. I know my life as a whole hasn’t been perfect, but I’m finally starting to appreciate all the perfect things within it. There are so many of them. My flexible job, my husband, my in-laws, my sister, my nieces, my nephew.
That thought makes me pause. I pull back and look up at Graham. “What did my fortune say? Do you have it memorized?”
“If you only shine light on your flaws, all your perfects will dim.”
I think about it for a moment. About how fitting that fortune is for my life. I’ve spent way too much time putting all of my focus on my infertility. So much so, my husband and all the other things that are perfect in my life were being forced to take a backseat.
Since the moment we cracked open those fortune cookies, I’ve never really taken them seriously. But maybe Graham is right. Maybe those fortunes are more than a coincidence. And maybe Graham was right about the existence of fate.
If so, I think my fate is standing right in front of me.
Graham touches my mouth with the tips of his fingers and slowly traces the smile on my lips. “You have no idea what this smile means to me, Quinn. I’ve missed it so much.”