Chapter 2: Will You Marry Us?

Six months later, Robert proposed over meatloaf and mashed potatoes while ten children pretended not to listen from the hallway… Continue Reading ⬇️

There were no candles. No violins. No grand speech.

He simply got down on one knee and asked, “Will you marry us?”

I cried before I could answer.

“Yes.”

My mother thought I had lost my mind.

Every Sunday, she repeated the same warning.

“Ten children, Margaret. You haven’t even lived your own life yet.”

“They are my life, Mama.”

She called me foolish. I stopped arguing because I knew she would never understand that love does not always arrive in a convenient shape.

Two weeks before the wedding, I stood in front of the mirror wearing my dress. Amanda zipped the back. Sophie clapped. The boys stood outside pretending to gag.

Then I saw Robert behind me.

He looked at me with an expression I did not understand.

Not happiness.

Not sadness.

Almost grief.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

Looking back, I think he already knew. Continue Reading ⬇️