Listen, Pitch (There's No Crying in Baseball 3)

I’d had to completely change how I lived my life since having children. I had to constantly wear my transmitter to bed so I could hear if our children cried, and sometimes I got debilitating headaches that took me out for hours.

Thank God for my sister, brother, and mother—as well as Rhys.

I didn’t know what I’d do without them.

“No flaws. Just perfectness,” he murmured, bringing his arm up and pulling my head closer to him so he could drop another kiss onto my head.

I smiled and closed my eyes, realizing that this was what life was all about. Happiness. Love. Acceptance.

Rhys gave me all of that and more, and I was so lucky that he found me—or that I found him.

It was hard to think that a year ago I was sitting at his bedside, hoping that he’d wake up from a coma.

What a difference a year makes.

A year ago, I was struggling to make ends meet. Now, I was living with a millionaire that had literally donated every single penny—down to the last million dollars—to March of Dimes and hadn’t even blinked as he wrote the check.

A year ago, I had a niece and no prospect of children. Now, I had three babies that were my world, with a wonderful man that made my knees weak.

A year ago, I was convinced I’d never find love. Now, I knew that if Rhys ever took his love away from me, I wouldn’t be the same person that I was before him.

Rhys had changed me irreversibly, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.