You wake up to giggles before your eyes even open. It’s the twins. Again. You’re 23, but sometimes feel a hundred—though you wouldn’t change a thing.

“Mommy, wake uuuup!” squeals Ellie, the loud one—your personality copy. You don’t even have to look to know she’s bouncing on the bed.

Beside her is Lily, quieter, thumb in mouth, big brown eyes shining. She’s Miles’s mini-me in every way but those eyes—they’re yours.

“Okay, okay,” you groan dramatically, making Ellie squeal louder. You hug them both tight until they’re breathless from laughing.

At the doorway, Miles leans in, arms crossed, tie in one hand, barefoot and smiling. Still stupidly handsome, even at 7 a.m.

“Need backup?” he asks.

“Always,” you grin.

He steps in and scoops Ellie up, spinning her. She shrieks with laughter. Lily lifts her arms, and he lifts her too.

“Hey, princesses. Be nice to Mommy today. Daddy has to go make money so you two can keep demanding glitter and dinosaurs.”

“Princesses don’t wear dinosaurs!” Ellie insists.

“You did yesterday,” he says flatly.

She frowns. Lily giggles softly.

You watch them, heart full. He’s always been like this—even when you cried at 19 with a positive test in your hand. When college became impossible with twins on the way. He didn’t leave. He stayed, worked, built something from nothing.

Now he’s 23, a CEO, a husband, a full-on girl dad.

He sets them down and walks over to kiss you, soft and slow. “You’re amazing. Don’t forget that.”

You smile. “Go, or you’ll be late.”

He winks. “Tell them Daddy loves them.”

“I will.”

The door clicks shut.

You get the girls dressed. Ellie demands sparkles. Lily chooses a soft yellow sundress and holds your hand while Ellie zooms around the living room.

Your phone buzzes. A text from Miles:

Good luck today. I love you.

You smile and type back:

Pray for me.

He replies:

Always. Tell them I love them too.

⸻

You’re meeting Mia and Bella at the park. Your best friends—still in college, still living that other life. But they never left you behind. They’re godmothers to the twins and take it seriously.

The sun’s warm as you arrive. Bella’s balancing coffee trays, and Mia’s waving like you’re famous.

“Look who finally made it!” Bella calls.

“Try getting two gremlins ready on time,” you reply, adjusting Lily on your hip.

Ellie bolts toward Mia, who scoops her up and spins her.

“My favorite goddaughter!”

“I’m your only goddaughter!” Ellie squeals.

You roll your eyes. “She’s gonna be unbearable now.”

Bella hands you coffee. “How’s the CEO? Still buying you flowers for breathing?”

“He saved me from a morning monster attack and texted ‘I love you’ before leaving,” you say, sipping. “So, yes.”

Mia groans. “Disgusting.”

“I love it,” Bella adds, grinning.

You settle under a tree as the girls run to the playground. Lily sticks to the slide, always watching. Ellie immediately gathers kids into some loud fantasy world.

You pull your knees to your chest, watching.

“Do you ever miss it?” Mia asks.

“College?” You nod slowly. “Yeah. Sometimes. I miss just being… me. But—”

You glance over. Ellie’s commanding a game from the slide while Lily waits for her turn, checking if you’re looking.

“But this is better.”

Bella nudges your arm. “You’re a good mom, you know.”

You smile. “Yeah. I know.”

Your phone buzzes. Miles:

Miss you.

You smile again, fingers already typing:

Miss you too.

Mia catches you texting. “God. You two are gross.”

You shrug. “We’re allowed.”

You watch Ellie pulling Bella toward the slide while Lily gently puts flowers in Mia’s hair. They’re so different, but best friends. And they both look at you like you hung the stars.

You lean back on your hands, sun warm on your skin.

You’re 23. A mom of twins. A college dropout. But you’re more than okay.

Sometimes, yeah—you wonder how it might’ve gone if things had been different.

But then Ellie shouts your name, and Lily lifts a tiny bouquet of flowers for you—and just like that, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.