Jay's POV
I woke up, and the first thing I felt and saw was Keifer sleeping beside me. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, his arm draped securely around my waist, and my own arms were wrapped loosely around his neck. His breath was warm against my skin—slow, steady, and impossibly comforting.
I smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, my fingers threading through his hair in slow, lazy strokes.
It was our anniversary.
One year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of being married. We were family now—officially, legally, completely—but somehow, it still felt like I was falling for him every single day. That hadn't changed. I didn't think it ever would.
Sometimes, lying here in the quiet of the morning, I wondered if this was all a dream. If I'd eventually wake up alone , and all of this—the ring on my finger, the warmth of his body next to mine, the soft baby sounds from the crib across the room—would vanish like smoke.
But if it was a dream, I didn't ever want to wake up.
Keifer stirred slightly, murmuring something unintelligible in his sleep. His arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against his chest like even unconscious, he was afraid I might disappear. His legs tangled with mine under the sheets.
I smiled again, my heart swelling so full it almost hurt.
I tried to carefully shift upward, to slip out of bed and start the day, but before I could get far, his hand shot out and grabbed my waist, pulling me back down.
"Keifer… let go," I said, laughing softly.
"Five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice thick and husky with sleep. That low, gravelly tone always made my stomach flip. He buried his face back into my neck, nuzzling against my skin like a contented cat.
I let out a mock sigh and settled back against him, my hand finding its way into his hair again, caressing the soft strands.
"Happy anniversary, my love," I whispered directly into his ear.
He went completely still.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he lifted his head, blinking sleep from his eyes, and looked at me. His gaze was soft, still heavy with drowsiness, but there was something else flickering in those familiar depths—something warm and tender and so deeply vulnerable that it made my chest ache in the most beautiful way.
"Say that again," he murmured, his voice barely above a breath.
I grinned. "Happy anniversary, my love."
He stared at me for a long, suspended moment. Then his face broke into that lopsided smile—the one I had fallen in love with what felt like a lifetime ago. The smile that made him look younger, softer, like he still couldn't quite believe his luck.
Without a word, he leaned in and kissed me. Slow and deliberate, like we had all the time in the world—because we did. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing feather-light over my cheekbone, and his lips moved against mine with a tenderness that made my eyes sting.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling.
"I love waking up next to you," he whispered. "My beautiful wife."
My heart stuttered. Even after all this time—after the wedding, after the late-night conversations, after watching him become a father—those words hit me like a freight train.
"Happy anniversary, baby," he added, his voice thick with emotion. "I still can't believe you said yes."
I threaded my fingers deeper into his hair. "Get used to it. You're stuck with me."
He laughed softly, then pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. "Promise?"
"Promise."
We lay there for a while, tangled in each other's arms, the morning light filtering golden through the curtains. Outside, the world was waking up, but in here, time felt suspended.
Then I heard it. Soft at first. A tiny, hiccupping whimper that gradually swelled into a full-fledged cry.
Oh.
My baby.
Kade.
I quickly sat up, my eyes scanning across the room to the crib in the corner. There he was—our son—sitting up with his tiny fists rubbing at his eyes, his bottom lip trembling. His dark hair was sticking up in a dozen directions, and his cheeks were flushed from sleep.
My heart melted instantly.
Keifer was already on his feet. He crossed the room in three long strides and peered down into the crib.
"Good morning, champ," he said softly, scooping Kade into his strong arms. Our son immediately quieted, snuggling against Keifer's chest.
Kade yawned widely, his tiny mouth forming a perfect O.
"Ma! Ma ma!" Kade babbled suddenly, his small arms opening and reaching toward me with desperate enthusiasm.
"Hold on, hold on," Keifer said, chuckling as he carefully handed Kade over.
I took him into my arms, and he immediately rested his head against my chest, nuzzling into the familiar warmth. His tiny hand patted my breast rhythmically.
"Ba… ta… da… ma… da… aa…" He babbled with the most serious expression on his face.
"Priorities," Keifer commented dryly, one eyebrow raised.
I just laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep. "Okay, okay, I hear you, little man."
I laid him gently across my lap and lifted my shirt. I wasn't wearing a bra—hadn't bothered with one at home since Kade was born.
Kade latched on immediately, like he'd been starving for hours. I winced slightly at the initial latch—babies had no chill—but then I settled into the familiar rhythm. His tiny fingers pressed against my skin, and his dark eyes fluttered half-closed in pure contentment. The soft, rhythmic sound of his swallowing filled the quiet room.
Keifer crawled back onto the bed and stretched out beside us, propping his head on one hand. He watched me nurse Kade with that soft, unguarded look he only ever had at home.
"You're staring," I said quietly.
"Can you blame me?" He reached out and gently stroked Kade's fuzzy head. "Look at him. Look at you."
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "Stop."
"Never."
Kade paused his feeding just long enough to turn his head toward Keifer's voice, milk dribbling down his tiny chin. He gave a gummy, toothless smile, then immediately latched back on.
"Efficient little guy," Keifer chuckled.
I hummed in agreement, leaning my head back against the headboard. The morning light had shifted, growing softer, more golden.
Keifer's hand found mine, his thumb tracing slow, hypnotic circles over my knuckles.
"One year ago today," he said quietly, "I could barely look at you during the vows because I knew I'd cry if I did."
I smiled. "You cried anyway."
"I cried anyway," he admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. "But then you wiped my tears with your thumb and whispered, 'I've got you,' and… I knew. Right then. I was exactly where I was supposed to be."
My throat tightened. "Keifer…"
"I mean it, Jay." His eyes met mine, serious now. "Three hundred and sixty-five days of being your husband. And I still feel like the luckiest man alive. Even on the hard days—the ones where we fight about stupid things, the ones where Kade won't sleep, the ones where we're both exhausted and snapping. Especially on the hard days. Because I get to come home to you. Every single time."
Kade unlatched, milk-drunk and completely content, his little mouth forming a perfect O. I adjusted my shirt and lifted him to my shoulder, patting his back gently. A moment later, a tiny burp escaped, followed by a satisfied sigh.
I looked at Keifer over our son's head.
"Happy first anniversary, hubby," I said softly.
He leaned over and kissed my forehead, then Kade's head, then my lips.
"Happy anniversary, baby." He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Here's to the first of many."
Kade let out a soft coo, already half-asleep against my shoulder, as if to say, Okay, lovebirds, I'm trying to nap here.
We both laughed, and in that moment, I knew—this was real. Not a dream.
And it was only the beginning.
---
Later that afternoon, Keifer appeared in the doorway with a wrapped box.
"Jay," he said.
"What is it?" I asked.
"It's a dress. Get ready and wear it. We're going somewhere."
"Where?"
"Surprise," he said with a sheepish grin.
I rolled my eyes. "Fine."
Kade was playing on the floor of our bedroom. I stood in front of the mirror, finally ready.
---
By evening I was ready.
The dress was beautiful—a maroon velvet bodycon that hugged every curve like it had been made for me. Silver straps served as delicate sleeves, catching the light. Soft makeup, loose waves in my hair, the dress perfectly fitted.
I looked like a diva.
I am a diva.
The door opened. I turned. Keifer entered with Kade in his arms.
For a moment, we both froze.
Keifer wore a maroon and black suit—the maroon matching my dress almost perfectly. And Kade wore a tiny suit exactly like his father's. A miniature maroon jacket, tiny black pants, a little bow tie.
"Ma! Da! Ba!" Kade babbled, patting Keifer's chest.
We snapped out of our trance.
Keifer walked toward me slowly. "I swear, one day you'll kill me with your hotness," he said in a low voice.
Heat crept up my cheeks. "You look very handsome too," I said shyly.
He smiled. Kade reached for me, arms out.
I took him with a soft laugh. "You too, baby. You look so handsome, just like your dada."
Kade, being Kade, grabbed my hair.
"Ow… baby, don't ruin my hairstyle," I said, gently trying to free my hair.
Kade giggled and let go.
Keifer wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling us close. "Ready, my loves?"
I looked at my husband. At my son. At the family we had built.
"Ready," I said.
And we walked out together, into our future.
---
Hey my cuties!
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Give suggestions for next chapters.
I'll upload the next chapter when the target would be completed.
Target 🎯.
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