Everyone said Drew Starkey was the dream. The heartthrob. The actor who made red carpets brighter just by stepping on them. Girls across the world fawned over his smile, his voice, his presence. And yet, none of them had what you did.

Because before he was Hollywood’s golden boy, he was just Drew — the boy next door, the one who shared your childhood, your inside jokes, your dreams.

You were just as well known. A beloved actress. A dazzling model. An influencer with charm so real it couldn’t be faked. The kind of woman who didn’t just walk into a room — she owned it. With green eyes that sparkled, dirty blonde hair always kissed by light, that soft curve to your plump pink lips, and freckles dusted like honey across naturally blushed cheeks — you were unforgettable.

People said it made sense: two perfect people. But they didn’t know the whole story.

You and Drew’s families had been inseparable forever. That meant you and Drew were practically raised together — summers spent on the same beaches, holidays under the same twinkling lights, birthdays blown out on shared cakes. His siblings — Mackayla, Brooke, Logan — were your people. And Drew? He was always there. Your first real friend. Your first crush. Your first everything.

At 15, it happened. Shy glances became hand-holding. Nervous laughs turned into late-night talks. You were each other’s safe place — the only place where everything made sense.

And it never stopped.

By the time you were adults, the world started to recognize you — your faces on magazine covers, in interviews, in movie trailers. You were rising stars, side by side. Fame never changed how you looked at each other. You were still the same two kids who got butterflies from holding hands.

Neither of you had seriously thought about marriage or family. You were both too focused on your dreams. But love has a way of shifting things.

You were 21, he was 23 — standing barefoot in your hidden-away apartment in L.A. when he dropped to one knee with a ring so beautiful it took your breath away. A cushion-cut diamond set in platinum, sparkling like your future. You didn’t even let him finish asking. You whispered yes before your tears even touched your cheeks.

On September 18th, you became Mrs. Starkey.

The wedding was beautiful — just family, close friends, the ocean, and vows you wrote yourselves. You signed your new name like it had always been yours. And being Drew’s wife? It was easier, warmer, more right than you ever imagined.

Now, two years into your marriage, life had settled into something sweeter.

Drew had just wrapped filming Outer Banks Season 5 in Charleston, and you’d both escaped the spotlight for a little visit to his hometown in North Carolina. Family time. Peace. Home.

You were at Mackayla’s house — Drew’s older sister — who now had two beautiful daughters: Liliana who was one and a half months old and Josephine who was 5 months. The whole Starkey crew was there: Jodi, Drew’s sweet mother who adored you like her own; Todd, Drew’s dad who also adored you like his own; Logan, always cracking jokes; Brooke, with that chaotic big sister energy you loved. Mackayla had set up the backyard like a cozy gathering — lights strung through the trees, soft music playing, lemonade in mason jars, and laughter everywhere.

Drew was barefoot on the grass, holding little Liliana in his arms, flying her gently through the air like she was a superhero. Her squeals of joy made everyone laugh.

You sat nearby in a wicker chair, Josephine curled peacefully in your lap, her little hands tangled in the necklace Drew gave you on your wedding night. And then, as if it were planned, Jodi turned to your husband and said

“So when are you two going to stop borrowing babies and start making one?”

You almost choked on your drink. Mackayla howled with laughter, and even Todd looked up from the grill with a sly smile. Drew muttered.

“Wow, subtle,”