Page 144 of If Love Had A Manual

In the kitchen, I flick on the coffee machine. The walls are lined with family pictures—Rosie’s first day of kindergarten, the twins with paint-smeared faces, our wedding day. I trace a finger over a photo of Lena in a white dress, smiling so bright I still feel it in my chest.

Grabbing a mug, I set it out as coffee drips into the pot. Moments later, I hear her footsteps on the stairs. It’s a brisk, familiar clip that tells me she’s racing the clock.

Months after we got married, Lena decided to go back to school to get her master’s in music therapy. I remember those months clearly. Rosie was four, and Lena insisted on studying part-time because she wanted to be there for every milestone. We argued overit more times than I can count. Not because I didn’t support her—I did, wholeheartedly—but because Lena has always been the kind of woman who puts everyone else first, even when she deserves to be selfish. I thought Rosie would be fine. Lena thought differently. She was a mom first, always.

Eventually, Rosie started school, and Lena found her stride. I watched her pour herself into late-night studying, operating on coffee and sheer determination.

Then came the twins, sooner than we’d planned, but that’s the thing about us: nothing about our life ever came with instructions. If our love had a manual, Lena would’ve thrown glitter all over it and skipped half the steps anyway.

I’ll never forget our stunned faces during that first ultrasound when the sonographer announced there were two heartbeats. I swear my own heart hasn’t recovered yet.

Now she has her own thriving business. She built it from the ground up, surrounded by a great team, but Lena still specializes in music therapy for grieving children.

She’s the strongest person I know, the glue that holds our entire chaotic, messy, perfect family together.

She emerges into the kitchen, hair damp and still slightly curly from the shower, dressed in a professional but comfortable outfit, biting her lip in that “I’m late” way. I hand her the mug without a word.

“Thanks,” she breathes, inhaling the aroma. “You’re a lifesaver.”

I slip my arm around her waist. She leans back with a sigh, sipping her coffee and enjoying a brief moment of peace that never lasts long because the kids starttrickling in.

The kitchen fills with that typical morning madness. Someone can’t find their homework, someone else is missing a left shoe, and the dog is waiting for scraps of toast.

Lena leans against the counter, just watching them for a second. I watchher,and the way her eyes soften. She’s never needed to micromanage the madness. She just… appreciates it because it’s ours.

I kiss just below her ear as she threads her fingers through mine.

Rosie groans from across the room, looking pointedly at us. “Can younot?” she complains, rolling her eyes. “It’s too early for gross couple stuff.”

“She tried to debate me this morning,” I whisper in Lena’s ear.

Her shoulders lift with a laugh. “She’s outsmarting us. It’s concerning. She’s teaching the boys now, too.”

One of the twins yells from the hall, “Mom and Dad are in looove!” which sets off a ripple of giggles and shrieks.

She turns in my arms, her hands sliding up my chest. “We’re setting unrealistic expectations for them, you know.”.

“Damn right we are.”

Because why not show them how it’s done?

She just shakes her head, eyes soft as a flush colors her cheeks.

Ten years, and she still looks at me like that.

I… I never thought I’d have this. A home, a wife, kids who fill every inch of my heart, and a dog who’s half dinosaur.

She catches me staring and arches a brow. “What?”

I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Nothing. Justhappy, baby.”

She leans up on her toes to kiss me in response.

“Oh my God, can you stop it?” Rosie groans with a fake gag as she stuffs her arms in her coat.

Lena pulls away, patting my chest with sympathy. “I’m glad you’re doing the school run this morning.”

Lucky fucking me.

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