It's strange, the way our lives turn out.
I was raised by a succession of nannies and governesses, the only child to parents who never seemed to have time for me. I never asked, but I'm convinced I was an accident, and that they saw to it that there'd never be another accident again. Mother and Father kept me at arms' length my entire childhood, always off to whatever social function they might be involved in. I can't remember either of them ever telling me that they loved me.
The nannies and governesses did what they could. I suppose they felt sorry for me. I suppose I felt like I had to fill the empty space, the lack of a brother or sister, with energy. Maybe that's why I've got such an extroverted personality. I didn't retreat into myself, like I could have.
My parents have been dead for years. I never felt close to them, so really... I don't know if they'd care about my choices in life one way or another. I don't know what they'd think of Rachel.
She is my reason to wake up in the morning with a smile. She's my fiancee, my love, and my future. Proposing to her, setting a wedding date, making our plans together... that's been a joy to me.
We kid each other about having children of our own. She's an obstetrician, so she's bringing babies into the world all the time. She smiles so sweetly whenever she tells me that I'll be the one to have the baby if we go ahead with it.
I'd do it. I'd get pregnant, carry a life inside me for nine months, put up with the cramps, the backaches, the weight gain. Just as long as she's there with me in the delivery room helping me bring our baby into the world.
She's my family. And I'm hers.