Coming Home

Forty

Five years later

It's kind of amazing to think how much can change in the span of five years.

To some, five years is a long time. To others, it's just a small blip in the entirety of a lifetime. I haven't yet decided where I stand on that subject, but I do know that five years can significantly impact a person.

Five years can change your whole life.

I had spent five years with my head buried in the sand, hiding from my problems as if they would somehow cease to exist if I simply stopped acknowledging them. I had hoped that this approach would be the lesser of two evils and that someday the memories that haunted me would vanish into thin air as if they never happened in the first place. I chose the cowardly way out, literally running away from home, changing my name, and starting fresh somewhere far away in order to escape the overwhelming pain I'd felt.

I had known at the time that it probably wasn't the best way to deal with things, but I was too broken to care.

New York was great to me over those five years; my new life came with everything I needed to begin anew. I had been given a job, a safe place to call home, and someone to care for me like a family would, and that meant more to me than anything else could have.

But while I had finally had my basic needs met and found someone to fill my heart with the love I so desperately needed at the time, my time in New York wasn't without pain or fear. It wasn't without guilt. At first, the transition itself took an unexpected toll on my mental health. It was a daunting task, but luckily, I'd eventually been able to work that out with the help of my therapist.

My time in New York gave me the time and space necessary to heal.

But I didn't really heal until I came home.

And now, it's been another five years since I left New York. The years we've spent back in Minnesota have been everything I could have ever dreamed them to be. While I've had both ups and downs, overall, I've been content with the direction my life has taken. I'd faced my fears, rebuilt old relationships, started new ones. I'd moved into my Gran's house and remembered every reason why it had always felt like home to me. I married the love of my life and, for once, saw a future for myself where I actually felt whole.

And today, as I stare at the two pink lines on the test in my hand, I just know that life is about to get even better.

"Lexi? Are you okay in there?" Levi calls from the other side of the bathroom door, stealing my attention away from the white stick I've been staring at for I don't even know how long. "You've been in there for a while."

"Can you come in here for a sec?" I ask, hoping that I've adequately disguised the excitement in my voice. "I need to show you something."

Several moments of silence follow my question, and I can't help but worry that Levi's hesitation is a bad thing. Maybe I've scared him by inviting him into the bathroom when he already thinks something is wrong. Or perhaps he knows what I want to show him, and he isn't happy about it. We hadn't been trying to conceive; in fact, we had decided long ago to leave things like adding children to our lives entirely up to fate. Maybe Levi doesn't even want kids. Could that be why he didn't want to actively try to have any?

My overthinking and panicking are interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door. Cautiously, Levi peeks his head in, visually taking in the scene before fully entering the room. He approaches me where I stand at the vanity, a worried expression etched into his handsome facial features that makes me feel slightly guilty for being the one to put it there. "Is everything okay?" he asks again, his voice coming out lower than usual as if he's terrified that I'm about to give him grave news or something.

Without a word, I hand him the positive test, observing him as he silently stares at it for several moments. It takes all the strength within me to not jump up and down, screaming my excitement for the entire world to hear. Levi's gaze flickers from the plastic stick to my face, a genuine smile lighting his features in what can only be described as pure bliss.

"Are you telling me you're pregnant?" he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice that I can't ignore. I immediately disregard any previous negative thoughts I'd had about how Levi would react to my news, feeling utterly overjoyed that his reaction is proving to be the exact opposite of those unwarranted fears. I should have known better than to think he'd be anything other than elated.

"We're gonna have a baby, Levi," I confirm, basking in our mutual joy as if I've never felt anything so incredible before. I'm literally swept off my feet within seconds as Levi's arms surround me, lifting me from the ground and holding me close to his chest. The small bathroom fills quickly with the sounds of our laughter, happiness bubbling over between us without restraint. This moment right here is one that I'll treasure for the rest of my life; I just know it.

If you'd asked me five or even ten years ago the road I'd imagined my life to take, I can almost guarantee that my prediction wouldn't be even remotely as beautiful as the life I've ended up with. Sometimes the things we think we want don't really measure up. Sometimes things don't work out the way we expect them to. If we're lucky, they turn out better than we could have ever imagined. As for me, I couldn't be happier in my tiny Minnesota town, making a home of my Gran's house, sharing my life with Levi Hutchins, and starting a family-- all things I never knew I wanted. Or even wholly believed I didn't want.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.