It’s been one full year since Mya and I stood in our backyard under that arch, in front of everyone we love, and finally saidI dofor real.
I stand on our back terrace with a mug of coffee, watching the early morning sun roll across the yard. The world feels softer now. Or maybe I am. But I’d never tell anyone the latter.
The rumors feel like a lifetime ago. The arrangement whispers and the “she married him for money” headlines. Our PR team did what they do best, and slowly cracked the narrative apart and let the truth bleed through without ever once humiliating us. My legal counsel sealed every old wound and closed every door the world tried to pry open.
Gone are my blue collar playboy days.
Eventually, people stopped talking.
We let everyone believe our second wedding was just a “romantic renewal ceremony,” nothing more. A symbolic recommitment. A sweet little celebration.
Let them have that version. We know the truth.
Behind me, I hear footsteps, then arms circle my waist.
“Morning, Mr. Miller,” Mya murmurs, voice still warm from sleep.
I turn, pulling her into me and kissing her slowly. “Morning, Mrs. Miller.”
She tucks into my side, head on my chest, like this is her favorite place to exist.
It definitely is mine.
Inside, I can hear Brianna rummaging in the kitchen, singing quietly under her breath. She’s older and calmer these days, but every once in a while, I still catch glimpses of the little girl who used to cling to me like I was all she had left. Now, she has more.
She has us. She has her mother.
“Hey,” Mya says gently, pulling back just enough to search my face. “Can we talk?”
“Of course. Is everything okay?”
We head to the outdoor couch, but she doesn’t sit across from me, and instead curls into me, hand resting over my heart. That alone tells me this is safe news. Good news.
“So,” she says softly, “I talked to Bri… And I asked how she’d feel if I… officially, legally… became her guardian.”
The world stills. I smile wide.
Mya continues, nervous and glowing at the same time. “I told her it wouldn’t change our dynamic. You’ll always be her dad first. And she’ll always have her mother. But I just want to be hers, too. Not just because I married you. Because Ichooseher as my daughter. Every day. Forever.”
“And Bri said yes?” I choke out, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat.
Mya nods. “She said that it already feels like I’m her second mom, and this just makes it real.”
My vision blurs.
I pull Mya in and bury my face in her shoulder, letting myself feel every ounce of relief, gratitude, and love I never thought I’d get to have again. Brianna will never question where she belongs again. She’ll never worry the ground beneath her isn’t permanent, now that she has three parents who would do anything for her.
When I finally find air again, I whisper, “Thank you.”
Mya smiles. “You may want to stay seated for the next part.”
I blink. “There’s a next part?”
She nods, reaching into her pocket, and pulls out a tiny pacifier.
I stare at it. Then I choke on a breath because reality hits all at once.
“No.”