Drew Starkey wasn’t just famous—he was the actor. Universally adored, the kind of man girls had on their walls, their screens, and in their daydreams. With his tall frame, ocean-blue eyes, and jawline that could break the internet, he was the man everyone wanted.

But to you? He was home.

And you—well, you were no less of a dream. The world’s most adored actress, model, and influencer. With green eyes that gleamed like emeralds in sunlight, a straight nose, soft freckles, and lips that seemed made for the spotlight—your beauty wasn’t just seen, it was felt. Every camera loved you, every magazine cover was yours. But Drew didn’t fall in love with the “icon.” He fell for you. The girl he’d known his whole life.

You and Drew had grown up side by side. Family barbecues, shared birthdays, beach vacations—your families were one big circle of love. His mom, Jodi, adored you since you were little. Drew was your constant—your best friend, your person.

Then came the teenage years. Late-night talks turned into soft smiles, and soft smiles turned into something neither of you could ignore. One night, when you were both fourteen, a single innocent kiss changed everything. What started as childhood friendship slowly blossomed into young love.

Everyone said teen love never lasts. But yours did.

By twenty, you had been dating for six years—an entire chapter of your lives spent side by side. Then one evening on Miami Beach, the golden sunset painting the sky, Drew dropped to one knee and opened a small velvet box. Inside, a diamond sparkled like a captured star. You barely let him finish before whispering “yes.”

Your families cried happy tears. Your moms were already planning the wedding before you’d even finished your dinner. And months later, on September 17th you stood in the Maldives in a dress that shimmered like a dream. Drew cried when he saw you walking down the aisle. You became Mrs. Starkey and that name felt like home.

The honeymoon was everything—Italy, France, Greece, Germany—just you and Drew, young and madly in love.

A year later, you found out you were pregnant. You froze when you saw the test, then burst into tears—happy, overwhelmed tears. Drew hugged you so tight you could barely breathe. Your families were overjoyed, planning everything from the nursery to the baby shower before you even had a bump.

On June 14th —just days before your birthday—you gave birth to a baby girl: “Evelyn Josephine Starkey”. Drew cried when he first held her, whispering, “She looks just like you.”

Evelyn grew quickly. Her laugh filled the house. She had Drew’s blue eyes, your nose, and a personality that outshined everyone’s. She was the family’s little sunshine. And just when everything felt perfect, you discovered you were pregnant again—after Evelyn’s 4th birthday. Drew was over the moon. He had always dreamed of two kids.

Months flew by, and on November 17th—just days after Drew’s birthday—you gave birth to a baby boy: “Andrew James Starkey” Tiny, perfect, and the spitting image of his father.

Now it’s beautiful morning in L.A.

The morning sun seeps through your bedroom window, soft and golden. The air is cool—the kind of fall morning that makes you want to stay wrapped in blankets forever. Drew lies beside you, shirtless, his hair messy, warmth radiating from his skin. You’re curled beside him, wearing your favorite Victoria’s Secret pajamas, your heart impossibly full.

Between you and Drew lies little Evelyn, already five years old, sprawled in her unicorn pajamas, giggling softly as she makes funny faces to her baby brother—Andrew, only four months old—who’s resting on Drew’s bare chest, tiny hands grasping at his father’s fingers. His soft laugh fills the room.

Drew’s sleepy grin melts your heart. He brushes your hair back gently and kisses your forehead. Evelyn bursts into laughter when Andrew lets out a baby squeal. Then Evelyn pipes up, not a hint of sweetness, just blunt

“Mom, Andrew’s drooling on Dad again. Can’t he use a bib like a normal baby?”