I'm five years old today.
And this morning, I was not just rich and emotionally overburdened—I was also a flower girl at Aunt Mimi's wedding.
My mother brought our fathers with her to the wedding. Not for emotional support. No. She needed them to watch us, while she handled her maid of honor duties. Or rather, best woman duties for both brides , since she was the one who introduced them.
Mimi, Tonya's now-wife, is a distant cousin of both Dorian and Caelum. She came to visit one summer, and my mother, with her freakish matchmaking powers, introduced her to Aunt Tonya.
The rest, as they say, is chaos, cake, and commitment.
Mimi spent years working with Doctors Without Borders—the kind of woman who saved kids, fought injustice, and casually sent us postcards from war zones. She had a scar across her shoulder, a heart of gold, and a laugh like sunshine. She didn't come around often because she was always traveling to dangerous places, but every time she did, she made it count.
When she told my mom she liked women, Mom had simply said,
"Oh good. You and Tonya will get along perfectly ."
She was right.
Mimi eventually decided to settle down and open a free clinic—backed, of course, by her billionaire cousins. She moved in with us for a while. Me and Lily were devastated when she finally moved out to live with Tonya, but we accepted it. We're growing.
This morning, as we lined up to walk down the aisle, flower baskets in hand, I felt unexpectedly emotional.
It's been five years since I reincarnated.
Five years of chaos, luxury, unpredictable parenting, and becoming someone else . And yet—here I was. With a new family, a sister I love, and two aunts I admire.
Also, I'm rich. So that helps.
I looked at Lily, holding her basket, and whispered,
"Throw the petals softly , not like a snowball fight."
She nodded, solemnly accepting her duty.
From the crowd, my father was proudly filming us. Caelum looked like he was already imagining us getting married one day. Weird, but sweet.
Then the brides entered.
One in white. One in black.
Their dresses were identical in design—only the colors were reversed. The room sighed. They looked incredible.
Everyone cried.
Except me. I was busy mentally ranking the appetizers for later.
After the ceremony, we danced until our little legs gave out. Lily eventually collapsed at my feet, her curls bouncing with every breath as she napped. I occasionally tossed her bits of food like a benevolent snack fairy.
Our parents were on the dance floor, doing what could only be described as a sexy three-way tango. I tried not to watch.
Then I felt a chill .
Like someone opened a window to hell.
I looked up.
There they were.
Dorian's parents.
Ugh.
These two only show up to ruin things. After Caelum's father's whole kidnapping meltdown, my dad finally admitted his parents were toxic and started limiting our time with them.
Still, they were invited today—because Dorian's father is Mimi's godfather.
And, of course, they were standing near the buffet, hissing at each other like old cats.
They were that toxic couple that fight everywhere they go.
I marched straight up to them.
"You two need to stop. This is a wedding. Stop ruining every event. You've already been banned from our birthdays because of this attitude."
Lily waddled up behind me, crossing her arms and nodding.
"Stop it," she added, in her cutest scolding voice.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Dad was considering inviting you to our fifth birthday. If he sees you now, you can forget it."
They looked at me.
Then at each other.
And, of course, immediately started blaming each other.
"See what you did?"
"No, it's you, flirting with the waiter—he's younger than your own son!"
"Let's not talk about our lovers' ages, you —"
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING AROUND MY DAUGHTERS?!"
That came from our parents.
They were storming toward us—Dorian's face full of rage.
"Girls, go to your mom and Caelum," he growled.
We obeyed.
As we left, I heard my father begin lecturing his parents like they were children, and I couldn't help but smile.
Back on the dance floor, I joined my mom, Lily, and Uncle Caelum. Aunt Mimi sat in her throne-like chair with Tonya on her lap, both laughing and drinking like queens.
Life was... weirdly good.
For a moment, I was content.
Until... the Preschool Bombshell
Just as I was starting to feel safe, my parents dropped a nuclear announcement.
"You're both starting preschool next week."
I froze. Tartlet in hand.
Preschool?
With other children?!
I immediately hit the floor and launched into a full-blown tantrum.
Screaming. Thrashing. Drama.
Lily looked at me, blinked, then joined in.
Good girl, Lily. Fight the system.
Our parents tried reasoning with us. Bribing us. Explaining something about "social development."
No.
Preschool was betrayal.
Then Lily—traitor to our revolution—stopped mid-sob and announced:
"If we get a dog... we'll go."
I turned, betrayed.
A dog? You'd give up our noble cause for a dog?!
But then I paused.
A dog.
A fluffy , non-biting, non-security-trained dog.
Not bad.
"We want a golden retriever," I declared.
The adults looked at each other, clearly defeated.
And that's how Louis, our new puppy, joined the family.
The First Day
On our first day of school, Lily clutched my hand like she was going to war.
We wore matching outfits. Fancy backpacks. Custom name tags.
As we stepped inside the shiny glass building full of crying toddlers and nervous teachers, I felt Lily's grip tighten.
I squeezed her hand.
"I'm kind of an adult," I thought. "And no one's going to hurt my sister."
We walked through the gates of preschool.
Day one of our next life chapter.