Started When We Were Younger Novelas e Histórias

he asked quietly with a grin as we swayed. It took me a moment, but I quickly realized what song it was. I remembered it clearly from when we were teenagers, right before I had left the pack. “Oh my god,” I whispered. “I do remember.” The memories were as clear as day: it was an old classic rock song, and we had become obsessed with it when we were teenagers. I could still remember stealing my dad’s record and putting it on while he was at work. We would dance in the living room until we were out of breath and laughing so hard we would collapse onto the couch.

"Back when we were young, our families would often travel together. You'd always refused to let me lean on your shoulders back then. "Despite so many years passing, why can't you just give me a chance?"

It’s strange, how time has a way of making things clearer. When Adrian and I first started this journey—this whirlwind of love, ambition, and uncertainty—I never would have imagined it would come to this. The days of sleepless nights spent wondering if we could survive the distance felt like they were miles behind us now. What once seemed like an insurmountable challenge had become a part of our story, something that we’d learned to navigate together.

Memories began to float back, uninvited. I found myself drifting to a time when life felt... lighter and simple. I was just a little girl then, and everything seemed so simple. Back when Dad was still married to Mom. Back when we lived in that small, cozy town where everybody knew everybody. Our house was modest, but it was filled with love. The kind of love that made everything feel safe.

We were the two kids with Boston accents who did everything together. We studied, hung out, watched movies and shows, and played the same sports. We even pulled pranks together, farted and blamed his dogs at dinner. Then We watched our first adult movie together, fought over football, and ran from the cops the time we accidentally set a trash can on fire at the country club.

My person. And I had been his too. We had watched each other’s backs, shared secrets, shared fear, and had shared dreams too big for the tiny life we had been born into. Back then, it was us against everything. Us against schoolyard cruelty. Us against unpaid rent. Us against disappointment. Us against the quiet humiliation of always knowing there were better lives happening somewhere else. If I let myself, I could still see us clearly.

We grew. And we never gave up. Not now. Not ever.

As I looked around at all of them, Eli’s hand warm in mine, I knew. This was our family. This was our beginning. And tomorrow, on that old cracked court, we were going to make it forever.

It was just getting started. ​

"We're really doing this?" "We're really doing this." That night, we started trying. Officially. Intentionally. Building our family. Expanding our love. Creating more of what we'd built together. More life. More joy. More of us.