That first night ignited with fiery passion. We went at each other with a mix of furious passion and innocent exploration. We lost our rhythm a couple of times, but we embraced for hours and I was very satisfied with my choice. Now positive I could love my woman both physically and emotionally I passed out and in the morning I approached our budding relationship with renewed determination and vigor. It didn't take long for me to be sure and just one month into our unconventional love story I proposed to Tabatha and she readily accepted.
"I've already given myself to you more than a decade ago. I'd be foolish to reject you now," she said when I proposed.
We spent the next three months getting every detail perfect. We had to compromise, but we had been friends for a long time and we never forgot what truly mattered so the give and take unfolded naturally and the ceremony was lovely. We were both successful in our own fields and money was not endless, but it was not a deciding factor in anything we did. So our wedding was a grand fair followed by a long honeymoon.
It was on our honeymoon when Tabatha first brought up the idea of children, "Kitty Kat, I'm always home and you would be such a great mother. We mentioned having children before. Can we look into it when we get home?"
"Sure, but adoption will be difficult. We might have to settle for fostering," I responded without much thought, but knowing I wanted children in my life.
Tabatha got his mischievous grin on her face and looked deep into my eyes, "Kitty Kat hear me out. Your brother could donate sperm and then if I got in vitro then the baby would be genetically from both families. That's too much right. I'm sorry I'm super creepy. It just came to me."
"We can ask," was my only response. She was my love and it would make me happy to be related to my child.
After our honeymoon it was a grueling process but my brother agreed. There were financial compensations made. He had to leave his job while coming to us for the procedures after all. We were left with very little in the way of savings, but we were eventually blessed with a daughter. We named her Rae after my brother. We loved her with all our hearts and we raised her to never fear the world or bend to its expectations.
She grew and eventually took an aggressive alcoholic as her husband. After beating her until she miscarried their baby she returned home to us. Her uncle was sixty at the time but he sent us pictures of what the man looked like when he left his house. I had never been prouder of my big brother. She never remarried, but went on to foster dozens of kids, mostly with behavioral issues.
I retired in my early fifties and Tabatha followed in her late fifties. We were still the romantic couple and my daughter would often say, "I'm so lucky. Few children have two parents with so much love in their hearts."
My Tabatha passed first when she was eighty, "Kitty Kat you've made me happy this whole time. Please don't let me leaving make you cry. I'll just wait for you ok," she said to me as the cancer took the last of her strength. I just nodded and kissed her forehead. I forced a big smile and me, my daughter and the two children that were staying with her at the time went to dinner. I moved in with her and went on to make more memories to tell her about when my end finally came. I was sure she'd be happy to see me when I finally get back to her. I turn one hundred and seven this year my daughter stopped taking in fosters over a decade ago though some of them still stop by from time to time. For her I still manage to find at least a little joy in every day and every night I text her about my day. For now that's enough or so I tell myself.