The morning sun spilled through the windows of the Harper home like golden syrup, casting long streaks of warmth across the wooden floors. Ava sat on the edge of the couch, rubbing her slowly growing belly with one hand, while the other held a cup of tea Jamie had insisted on brewing from scratch—his latest obsession.
Across the room, Thomas Harper, now four, was already deep into a world of dinosaurs and building blocks. He wore a cape fashioned out of an old towel, and a serious frown that meant he was about to save the living room from a prehistoric invasion.
"Captain Thomas, we need you to secure the perimeter," Jamie called out from the kitchen, slicing up apple wedges in the shape of little boats.
"I already did, Daddy!" Thomas shouted back, zooming his dinosaur across the floor. "But there's a new T-Rex hiding under the bookshelf."
Ava chuckled, pressing her tea against her lips and watching the two loves of her life do what they did best—fill the house with joy.
Jamie emerged, holding a plate of snacks in one hand and a lopsided grin on his face. "That T-Rex under the bookshelf better be paying rent."
He leaned down to kiss Ava's forehead. "How are you feeling today?"
"Like a very tired balloon," she murmured. "But a happy balloon."
Jamie offered her a boat-shaped apple slice. "For the bravest balloon I know."
"Do I get extra points if I don't cry while Thomas knocks over the block tower for the fourth time?"
"You get all the points. Forever."
She smiled softly and leaned into his shoulder. "Let's go outside today. Before the weather changes."
Jamie raised a brow. "Picnic?"
"Just… the backyard. Blanket. Snacks. Us."
He looked down at her, still amazed that the woman he once shyly passed letters to under an oak tree was now his wife, the mother of his children. "Then let me pack the best backyard picnic the Harper family has ever seen."
Thirty minutes later, the backyard was transformed.
Jamie laid out a thick, checkered blanket on the grass beneath the swaying branches of the oak tree—the same tree that had once witnessed the early scribbled beginnings of their love story. A small canopy fluttered in the breeze, anchored at four corners to give them a patch of shade. The picnic basket overflowed with sandwiches, fruit, crackers, and juice boxes.
Thomas ran in circles around the tree with a superhero mask crooked over his forehead. Every few seconds, he'd launch into the air with a dramatic "Zoom!" then immediately stop to inspect a ladybug or a stick shaped vaguely like a sword.
Ava sank onto the blanket with a long exhale, placing a pillow behind her back and stretching out slowly. "I'm convinced the second pregnancy is secretly triple the work."
Jamie passed her a small container of strawberries. "And you're making it look effortless."
"You're biased."
"Absolutely. But I'm also right."
She plucked a strawberry and bit into it, smiling at the burst of flavor. "Okay, maybe I'm not doing terribly."
"Mommy!" Thomas suddenly sprinted toward them. "Do you want to be the queen of the dinosaur kingdom?"
"I would be honored," Ava said, playing along. "Do I need to wear a crown?"
Thomas nodded solemnly and dug through his toy basket, pulling out a bent paper crown from last Halloween. He gently placed it on her head and kissed her cheek. "You're the nicest queen."
Ava's heart ached in the best way.
Thomas skipped off to challenge Jamie to a pretend duel, and for a while, the yard was filled with their laughter—wooden swords clashing, make-believe dragons roaring, and Jamie dramatically pretending to be eaten by a flying pterodactyl.
Ava watched them from her place beneath the tree, her hand never leaving her belly. There was something magical about this kind of day—the nothingness of it, how it wasn't tied to grand gestures or special occasions. Just a warm morning. A full heart. Her boys.
Her world.
Later, when Jamie collapsed beside her with Thomas sprawled across his chest, the sun slipped through the canopy and painted everything in dappled gold. The three of them lay there, a heap of limbs and smiles and tangled hair, the soft hum of summer bees buzzing nearby.
"I think he's asleep," Jamie whispered, nodding toward Thomas, whose little hand still clutched a plastic triceratops.
"I think I might be, too," Ava murmured.
Jamie shifted slightly so she could rest her head on his shoulder. "I was just thinking…"
"Dangerous," she teased.
He chuckled. "I was thinking how lucky we are. That we get to do this. Just… be."
Ava nodded, her eyes heavy but full of light. "Not every day is easy. But days like this… they remind me that we've built something worth everything."
They lay in silence for a few moments before Jamie added, "Our letters used to be all dreams and maybes. Now, we're living them."
Ava smiled. "We still write new letters every day. Just in the way we live. The way we love."
Thomas stirred slightly, murmuring something about dinosaurs in his sleep.
Jamie kissed Ava's hair. "I want to remember this. Every part of it. Even the apples shaped like boats and your pillow throne."
"You always remember the good parts," she whispered.
"That's the secret," he said. "Hold on to the good so it carries you through the hard."
Ava closed her eyes, a smile still playing on her lips.
Under the great oak tree, the Harper family lay together—tired, happy, tangled in love and sunlight. And in the stillness of the afternoon, a soft breeze carried laughter into the branches above, where old letters once nestled and new stories waited to be written.