For one last time, I see it... the final veil connecting me to my past fluttering in the wind so that for a moment, I don't see my family as they are... I see them for what they could have been.

So

"What does she mean to you?" my father had asked me one day after my engagement. He had come into my office and poured us both drinks. "I know there's nothing I can do to stop you now that you've made up your mind. I won't even ask for explanations. Just tell me… what does she mean to you?"

Where do I begin?

From the moment I first started dreaming about her, I already knew she was special. Seeing her in the flesh a year later and finally remembering who she was to me felt surreal, to say the least.

How do I explain to my father that this was the woman I'd crossed a thousand years to be with again?

How do I tell him that if it weren't for her, the kingdom he had spent his past life building would have crumbled mere years after his death as son after son, brother after brother killed one another for power?

How do I describe how I had felt that night when I finally got to hold her again, when I had despaired a thousand years ago, believing that she was forever lost to me?

"She means everything."

She more than saved my life... she saved my soul.

.

"How do I look?" she'd asked the first day she'd donned her new Damiwon uniform.

I looked up from my laptop in time to see her spin around, showing me the workmanship.

It was masterfully done and I could have watched her all day. Seeing her like that brought me back in time - to an evening of fireflies, of little adventures that we had taken while she was Head Court Lady under Mu's reign.

And on her hair, she had fastened the hairpin I had given her on the night of my mother's disastrous party.

The moment I saw it, my vision shifted so that I suddenly found myself standing on a dirt path lined with ancient, majestic willows. And beneath one such willow she stood, dressed in white with her long dark hair pinned back by another hairpin of the same design.

"It's great, isn't it? It's almost exactly like the original. Baek Ah's so talented!" she'd gushed happily, her voice disrupting my visions.

I blinked and was brought back to the present. Instead of standing on a dirt path, I found myself sitting on a bar stool in my old kitchen, staring at Hajin as she waltzed up to me.

"Everything alright?" she asked, peering curiously into my face.

I reached out to touch her new uniform.

Everything was exactly the same… everything except the century we were in and the woman before me - for not only did she have more freedom to express her feelings in this time, but she was also more than just a Court Lady - she was my wife.

"Baek Ah made it adjustable," she explained as I fingered the band around her waist.

I couldn't feel it at that moment because of the layers of clothing she had on, but her once-flat stomach had very recently started to swell - a visible manifestation of the life growing inside her.

I remembered the first time I noticed it, roughly two weeks after we were married.

We had just gotten back after being out all day and she had stripped off her outer clothing to get ready to take a shower. The small change would have escaped anyone else's notice, but I was well-acquainted with her body and spotted the difference immediately.

It was like her body had waited for that one little change to finally begin showing off. In the next few days, her appetite varied with her mood, her nose became extra sensitive to even the mildest of scents, and her weight increased in proportion to her waistline.

I think back to the time I had felt those first stirrings of life. Hajin had already been feeling the baby move for weeks and was always disappointed when I told her I couldn't feel anything.

Until one evening when we were lying in bed and talking quietly about how well Eun's surprise for Soon Deok had gone, as well as our thoughts on Jung's aversion to romance. I was stroking her then very visible bump when I felt an unmistakable twitch beneath my hand.

At first, I thought perhaps it was wishful thinking, but then I saw Hajin's face and she had on a serene smile that she usually reserved for moments such as this.

When she saw my expression, she gasped, "You felt it too?"

"Was that her?" I asked in awe, hand poised in case of more movements.

She nodded and kissed me, happy to finally be able to share these precious moments. We'd waited quietly for a few more minutes before deciding our little girl was done for the night.

But it was enough. I had felt her for the first time, and the euphoria of that moment only grew everyday when I began to feel her more frequently - whenever I hugged her mother or talked to her directly in the mornings before getting ready for work and again at night before going to sleep.

Some days, she made making love to her mother seem wrong.

"She won't be able to feel anything from in there," Hajin had said, both exasperated and amused after I'd finally decided to express my concerns. "And it's not like she knows what we're doing. It probably feels like I'm… riding a bike. Or exercising. Both completely child-friendly activities."

"But she moves everytime I try to get close," I sighed. "You see? She moved again."

"She's an active girl! And she can hear perfectly well, you know," Hajin replied before bursting out laughing. "Maybe if we're really, really quiet she'll go back to sleep..."

It was my turn to tease. "That's not a problem for me. You, on the other hand…"

Her mirth died and she glared at me. "Sometimes, it can't be helped. Now, are you going to help satisfy my hormones or not?"

I always did in the end, especially once I'd gotten used to feeling the baby move against me. I never could refuse nor deny Hajin anything.

She was irresistible to me. From the moment I first lifted her onto my horse, I had never been more drawn to anyone… never been more enchanted.

And in my eyes, she grew more beautiful everyday. More beautiful than the day she finally accepted my feelings… than on the night I first made love to her in Seokyung… even more beautiful than when we were finally wed was the undeniable joy on her face in that early morning when she held our daughter in her arms for the first time.

"It's her," she had confirmed as tears streamed down her face.

Nothing could have prepared me for that. I was overcome by a hoard of emotions I hadn't even realized I'd been bottling.

I finally had an answer to one piece of my puzzle of questions about her.

So this is how you had looked like as a baby.

Despite knowing I owed my daughter's life to Jung, I had nonetheless felt jealous of him for being able to witness all of her firsts, for meeting her before I could, for getting to know her better than I ever did, and for being able to shower her with all the affection she deserved without fearing that anyone would punish her for it.

His reaction to meeting her again in this life was something I had expected, even though he couldn't possibly have understood why he had felt that way. I knew it was because his love for her had been genuine. Nothing I did now would ever be enough to repay him for the kind of life he had given her.

"Will she never wake?" he'd whined as we watched her through the nursery glass window of the hospital.

I messed up his hair. "She was just born. Give her a break."

All he could do was pout.

"I'll need to catch up on some work next week. Why don't you come over and lend Hajin a hand?" I suggested.

His pout quickly transformed into an eager smile. "Sure!" he beamed, and even though he knew Seol was asleep and couldn't hear him through the glass, he still said to her, "we're going to have lots of fun, you and me!"

Back at home two days later, I found my wife alone with our newborn. She smiled when I entered the room, and as we gazed down at our baby's face, she started to hum.

For one last time, the scene before me changed.

Gone were the modern furnitures and lights. In their place were wooden beams, candle holders, and windows covered in hanji.

There was a bed by the wall, and standing by that bed was my Soo. She's in traditional clothes of bright hues and singing softly to the dozing baby in her arms.

There's a place I want to return to
Now even my footprints seem unfamiliar to me
My friend, my dear friend
Thank you for being you

I had heard that song sung many times over during my reign because the people all believed it to be a favourite of mine - the song that had made their ruthless king fall in love with a mere court lady.

I never stopped them from performing it because it felt like a well-deserved punishment each time I heard it. The pain of Soo's passing never dulled over the years. I spent the rest of my life trying to forgive myself and never did.

"So?"

The vision disappeared along with my recollections. I focused my attention back to the present and saw Hajin eyeing me curiously.

"Did you see something?" she asked. "It hasn't happened to either of us in awhile."

I smiled. She knew me so well. "It was your song that triggered it."

"Oh," she said, understanding. She couldn't have known what it was that I saw… that I had just glimpsed one of the few moments she and Seol had together before she was ripped from that life. But my melancholy must have shown because instead of pressing for details, she offered the baby to me.

Neither in my past nor present life have I ever held a baby, especially one so young, and one who was mine.

My heart swelled.

Every little thing she did was fascinating. Despite being so tiny and fragile, she was surprisingly strong. Hajin and I watched as she scrunched up her face and stretched right before opening her eyes.

The grin on my face came naturally as I looked into those eyes, the way I had done many times in the past. They were the same curious eyes I had adored.

"Welcome home, little girl," Hajin cooed, tapping her lightly on the nose.

Welcome home, indeed.

I wrapped Hajin in a one-armed hug and kissed her temple. "Thank you for my babies."

She smiled and leaned against me, sighing in content. "For you, anything."

.

It's a bright and quiet Sunday morning and I'm wide awake. The tranquility of the morning is what had brought about the recollections.

I'm lying in bed, listening to the occasional chirp of summer birds fluttering outside the window, watching as the sun bathes the entire room in a warm glow. Warmer still is the body of the woman in my arms. Her eyes are closed, her sleep thus far undisturbed, but she smiles when I kiss her shoulder.

"Good morning," she reciprocates my greeting and stifles a yawn. "Is she up?"

"I don't think so. I'll check. You go back to sleep."

"Okay. Thank you," she mumbles, burying back under the covers.

I put on a fresh shirt as I make my way over to the nursery.

It's been almost six months, but I never tire of watching her. Whenever I see the even rise and fall of her tiny breaths, I feel at peace. And I've never known anything to match the elation I feel whenever she opens her eyes. It's a different kind of happiness from when I'm with Hajin, with whom I can share everything.

Watching Seol, I feel whole… purposeful.

She shows off a toothless smile when she sees me.

"Good morning," I greet as I lean over her crib and offer up a finger for her to catch. She grabs hold at once, but when she guides it towards her mouth, I pull back and hand over a teether instead.

She doesn't like it. Angry, she lets out a loud yell that I just know will wake her mother.

"Shh!" I shush hastily, lifting her from her crib. "Your mother needs her rest."

Apparently enjoying the change in scenery, she looks around and lets out a squeal of laughter.

"Yes, I'd be bored with having to stare at nothing but the ceiling all night, too," I agree with a chuckle. Whispering, I add, "Mommy is much better to look at. Maybe I should've let your uncle Eun plaster stars all over your ceiling, after all..."

The determined look in her eyes is what I notice first, but instead of my finger, she tries to go for my nose.

"Nice try," I say smoothly as I hold her at arm's length.

She looks disgruntled at having failed a second time. I sense a call for backup coming, so before she can scream for her mother again, I draw her in and kiss her cheek.

"I love you."

Her eyes are bright when she finally lands a slobbery kiss all over my face, but what had started as a kiss quickly turns to sucking when she reaches my nose.

I pull her away again. "Shall we go wake mommy, then?"

She laughs suddenly, waving her arms and legs my way. It dawns on me that maybe she thinks we're playing a game, so I lift her up above my head and laugh along when she lets out another peal of laughter.

I bring her down for another kiss. "Let's go wake your mother."

.

.

.

.

Hajin

Growing up, I'd always believed in happy endings. I believed everyone deserved to have one.

Life was quick to rid me of that delusion as tragedy after tragedy followed me the moment I reached the age of twenty-five. Before then, I was working the perfect job, hanging out with a perfect set of friends, enjoying the support of my wonderful parents, and to top it all off, I had thought that I had found the man I would one day marry.

How naive I was!

My boyfriend and best friend stole everything I had and left me alone to deal with the consequences. My perfect set of friends abandoned me when they learned of the kind of trouble I was in. My own parents stopped trusting me for a time.

And because life thought that wasn't bad enough, I made a choice to try and save a young boy from drowning one day and ended up drowning myself… and woke up to find myself stuck a thousand years in the past in the body of one who looked exactly like I did when I was sixteen.

But then life in the past didn't turn out to be so bad… at the start. In fact, I actually enjoyed it.

I enjoyed putting all those snobbish princes in their places. I enjoyed being their friend. I enjoyed teaching the servants at the 8th Prince's mansion how to make soap and makeup. I enjoyed my time at the Damiwon despite all the challenges I faced. I enjoyed the change in scenery - the freshness of the air and the untamed beauty of the forests and plains.

I can still recall the scent of the ocean, the strong breeze that had rolled over me when I got off the horse and stood on my own by the shallows. I remember watching as the sun steadily rose on the horizon…

Did you know it, then? That despite my refusals, I had grown fond of you…

"You have a face like glass," he'd told me on our way back from one of our lunch dates.

Confused, I asked what he meant.

"People can tell what you think and feel just by looking at your face."

Unfortunately, it was the truth. I scowled. "Being honest about how I feel is a good thing."

"And it breaks so easily," he added with a grin.

"Being able to show how I feel is a good thing," I snapped with a glare.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "So don't bother lying or trying to hide things from me because I can always tell when you do."

Again, the truth. The only reason he hadn't been able to figure out I'd gotten pregnant in the past was because we had seen so little of each other and grown distant. I've no doubt that if we had spent just another hour together somewhere, he would've realized it and locked me up to prevent me from leaving.

I mentioned as much.

After a thought, he agreed that he probably would have had me quarantined and guarded 24/7 - like some kind of infectious disease.

I patted my offended bump.

"Valuable object," he objected with a slight roll of the eyes.

It still amazes me sometimes how easily we're able to talk about the past now - those events that had used to cause so much pain no longer weighing us down.

Some days, it all still feels like a dream. I would catch myself staring at him doing the most mundane things, wondering if I was still in a coma or perhaps living out a fantasy in the afterlife.

My greatest fear is that one day I'll wake up to find that none of this had been real.

My fears often turned my dreams into nightmares. I would wake in the middle of the night in a panic - crippled by phantom chest pains, haunted by faces of the dead, or fearful that despite all the care I've taken, I had somehow lost my baby.

And I wasn't the only one.

"Will they ever go away?" I asked him groggily one morning after a restless night of tossing and turning. "Is this what having PTSD feels like?"

"Almost," he replied, handing me a warm glass of milk.

I eyed him mournfully. "How did you deal with it?"

"I had you."

Just like that, I felt like crying again. I always cried on those days. I cried over every little thing.

"We see each other everyday," I pointed out, sipping on my milk to hide my watery eyes.

"Maybe it's not enough," he suggested, leaning on the countertop in front of me. "Shall we change your job description to daily dates with the department head instead of weekly?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You think that'll work?"

"No idea," he admitted after a quick kiss. "I just want to see more of you."

Laughing, I reminded, "We already see each other everyday."

"Then, is that a no?"

"No."

"No?"

"Yes."

"Yes, no?"

"No, yes!"

"No, no?"

Not this again! I glared at him. "Yes, yes, let's have lunch together everyday! How many schedules will your secretary have to clear for this to happen?" I should send that woman a fruit basket.

"A fair amount," he replied. Make that a fruit basket and some personalized soaps. "It doesn't matter. They can always reschedule. You are more important. It'll be worth it if it makes the nightmares go away. If it doesn't help at all, then at least I get to spend some extra time with my girls."

I couldn't say no, not with our little person doing happy dances against my ribs in time with the rapid beating of my racing heart.

Lunch wasn't the only added thing we did together.

Two months before my due date, I decided to stop going to work, not because of any physical problems, but because I was worried about going into preterm labor like I did in the past. It was an irrational fear, but not unfounded… and even though So thought I was worrying too much, he respected my decision and began spending more time at home to keep me company.

He even suggested taking walks together around the neighborhood park, an activity which I readily agreed to. I never did enjoy being cooped up anywhere and little walks with him in the snow seemed harmless, more beneficial.

Before heading back home, we would sit on an empty bench and talk about all sorts of things. There was never a shortage of topics. We talked about work, our families, the past, and we even occasionally talked about the people in our neighborhood.

"She helped me with my things the other day," I told him on one of those instances, nodding towards the sweet old lady walking her dog. "She's nice but very lonely. Her husband died in the war years ago and she never remarried."

"Does she have kids?"

"One, but he works in a different country."

He frowned, looking thoughtful. "If I suddenly die tomorrow, I give you permission to remarry."

I rolled my eyes. "No one's dying tomorrow. Let's not talk about that."

"There are no guarantees when it comes to life. I should probably get to work editing my will…"

"Then if I die suddenly tomorrow, promise me you'll do everything in your power to make sure our baby lives and then you have my permission to remarry, too," I snapped in annoyance.

"You're right, let's not talk about this," he retracted, rubbing my shoulder consolingly. "But her son ought to visit her on holidays, at least."

I had to agree. I thought about my parents and how they must have felt when I left home. I very seldom visited them after I moved out. Now that I was about to become a parent myself, I felt guilty, wondering how I would feel if I were in their shoes… or the old lady's… and then I decided that I didn't even want to think about it.

I just found myself hoping that Seol would end up working in the company when she's all grown up just so she could live a lot closer to home.

"At least she has her dog," I pointed out halfheartedly. "He's a good boy. Very smart and loyal."

"Probably would have been better if they'd had more children, though."

My heart skipped a beat. We'd never properly discussed how many children we planned on having.

"Probably," I shrugged noncommittally.

"Probably three. There's usually one who'll remain loyal even if the other two decide to go rogue."

Suddenly, I wondered if he was thinking about how he and his brothers turned out with regards to their mother.

"Be honest with me… do you feel bad about what happened to your mother?" I asked.

"I feel conflicted," he admitted after some consideration. "She won't win any awards on parenting, but in her own strange way, she tried her best. She taught us to strive for perfection… raised us to be independent, confident. I know it and my brothers know it. We owe a lot of who we are to her."

The idea that had been brewing in my mind sprung out of me before I could consider it further. "Why don't we invite her over for Christmas dinner?"

My casual invitation sent him reeling.

"What?" I cried out defensively, seeing his expression. "Don't you think it's the right thing to do?"

"Soo-yah," he said, laughing a little, "she's being punished by the law for trying to mess up your life, my life, and the lives of many others."

"Next year, then," I said stubbornly. "She gets one scheduled day-off a year, three if she's good. Why not have one on Christmas?"

"And what about the rest of the family?"

"We'll tell them beforehand. No biggie."

"No biggie?"

"We don't even know if she'll say yes," I said matter-of-factly before he could protest further. "Since she despises me so much, she'll probably say no every year but, if someday she does decide she wants to be a part of something meaningful again - like your daughter's life," I could tell that got to him, "then the invitation is there. No one can say we didn't try. We can keep enjoying life with no regrets."

He eyed me thoughtfully for a few moments, and I was feeling extremely proud of myself for this solution to his dilemma when he suddenly leaned into me and said, "I think I want five daughters, all exactly like you."

I felt like passing out. "FIVE?!"

"You're a remarkable woman, have I ever told you that?"

"You… you can't just drop a bomb like that and… and…" I stammered, perplexed. "I haven't even finished with this one, and you're already saying you want four more!"

"I'm open to negotiation."

"Two."

"Four."

"Three."

The full realization of what I was getting myself into sunk in then. I felt my jaw drop open in horror. Did I just agree to having three kids?

He grinned. "I told you three was a good number."

"I thought we were talking about the nice old lady."

"We were, and now we aren't. Three's good."

"Sure, if I don't die tomorrow."

That snuffed the fire in his eyes. "I deeply regret bringing up that subject now."

I grinned in triumph. "It's getting late. Let's continue this conversation later at home."

We got up from the bench and chose a path. Before I could follow it, he took my hands and spun me slowly around to face him, eyes unhappy.

"Now that I've finally found you… I don't want to think about even the possibility of you leaving again."

I plastered on my most confident smile. "I'm not going anywhere, Pyeha." I stood on my toes briefly to kiss him. I fully intended to live an entire lifetime with him this time, and if I had to fight with St. Peter to do it, I would.

I suddenly became aware of being watched and, looking down, came face to face with a familiar little girl.

"You again," So said, noticing her as well. "Please tell me you don't live here."

Instead of replying, the little girl said haughtily, "Mama says kissing in public is wrong."

"Your mother's right," So said, to my surprise. He placed a hand over my sizable midsection and added, "This is what happens when you kiss a boy."

The girl looked horrified as she scampered away.

"What the hell?! You've scarred her for life!" I exclaimed, laughing despite myself.

"What I did," he grumbled as he urged me back onto the path towards home, "is prevent one case of teenage pregnancy. She was too nosy for her own good."

I thought that was grossly optimistic, but agreed that the child has shown a lot of interest in the private affairs of adults and that a little shock and caution was probably warranted.

I wonder at the enigma that is my husband, a man who wants kids but claims to have no patience with them, even though I've seen him interact with kids and I think he handles them pretty well. Or is it that kids, like adults, just naturally listen to him and do whatever he says? When and how did he develop this "no patience" bias about himself?

Whatever it is… everything changed the moment our baby was born. I knew it. I saw it. I still see it.

I felt it - the change in him on the morning she came, like a weight had been lifted, allowing him to breathe more easily. I saw it best the first time he finally held her. I understood how he must have felt then for though he's loved her for a thousand years, he's never been able to show it until now.

"I'm sorry," I had apologized quietly as I watched them together.

I don't know if he'd heard me… but he pulled me into an embrace and thanked me for her. And I remember being equally thankful… that despite everything we've gone through, he's remained positive, looking forward towards our shared future without lingering too long on the regrets of the past. It's something I've been working on.

.

"Nothing was ever enough for me. No matter how many awards I won, no matter the praises people threw at me, no matter how high my reputation soared or how hard I worked… I always felt that it wasn't enough. That I wasn't enough. Until I found you again, I used to feel nothing but worthless."

It's my fault that you grew up in this life feeling that way… and now you'll never have to feel that way again.

Never. "You're enough. You've always been enough. I'm sorry you felt that way after I left…"

But he just smiled. "None of it matters anymore. Now… here… with you… that's all I care about."

.

It's Sunday morning and I'm woken from the same dream a second time, this time by the high-pitched scream of our baby girl. I remember when I used to sleep like a log. These days, I'm at her beck and call.

I rub the sleep from my eyes as I get up. Since she hasn't yet started crying, I figure I've a few seconds to a minute to wash my face before I'm actually needed.

When I'm done, I head to the nursery, where I'm greeted by the lovely sight of him playing with her. And she's liking the attention.

I stand quietly by the door and just watch as he lifts her up, high above him. She laughs, her little limbs flailing in the air in her attempts at reaching him, and as he brings her down for a kiss, she squeals in delight.

For one last time, I see it... the final veil connecting me to my past fluttering in the wind so that for a moment, I don't see my family as they are... I see them for what they could have been.

His hair is in a topknot, his dark blue hanbok delicately embroidered in gold. She's no longer in her onesie, but in a tiny set of traditional garments fashioned from the softest of silks and the brightest of colors. Behind them, the glass windows have been replaced by wood, and candles flicker brightly on a table nearby.

The image fades as easily as it came, leaving me breathless and mournful in its wake.

Could it be? That somewhere, someplace, in some other time… could our story have ended well? After all, time is a web of circumstances and events, not a straight path leading to a sure end.

If we had made better choices…

I stop my train of thought before it can extend further. I can long for a different end to our story, but I can never regret what really happened.

How can I? All of those paths have led to this… this life, this moment. And I wouldn't trade this time with them for the world.

Feeling a little shaken, I close the distance between them in a few strides and immediately wrap my arms around him, feeling at once secure and reassured.

"What's wrong?" he asks, looking down at me with a worried expression.

Everyone who has seen her has mentioned how much Seol takes after me... but as I look at the pair of them now - with both their eyebrows drawn together in a frown - I'm struck by how similar they look, even when she's drooling all over the tiny fist she's got clamped firmly in her mouth.

I shake my head and look up at him. "It's nothing. I'm just happy."

He shifts Seol onto one arm and draws me in to plant a kiss on my forehead, and Seol does her part by trying to rip the hair off my scalp.

Our story is not a happy one - it's full of heartaches, loss, betrayals and hard choices. But I'm where I want to be, caught in between the two people I love the most.

This is how our story was always meant to be... and this is how it will continue to be for eternity.

As I nestle into him, I close my eyes and allow the distant memories of our past to flow through my mind for one last time... the lake, the trees, the stars, the sky; the wounds, the scars, the goodbyes; the deaths, the pains, the betrayals, the heartaches…

I exhale slowly and let them all go.

Memories from this life take over their places: from the moment I met him again, to our first date, to the day we found out we were having a baby, to our first and second wedding, to the day our baby was born… all of them beautiful memories.

I still believe in happy endings... but I no longer believe that everyone deserves to have one. Because it's never been about deserving it, but rather about fighting for it.

We've fought for ours and we've won.

I feel whole and at peace, loved beyond measure in the arms of my best friend. My prince. My king. My forever love.

All of those paths have led to this…

I open my eyes and smile.

"I'm happy."

And that's a wrap! Finally, after almost 2 years!

It's been a long, hard, emotional road and I thank everyone who's stuck around this long, despite the many haituses in between some chapters, specifically towards the end. I suppose I'm just not good at saying goodbye, even to fictional characters lol

Thank you! For liking the story, for sharing with me your thoughts, for taking time to even read it. I know it's not perfect... there are moments when I reread, myself, and I think, "Why didn't I do this instead?" or "I forgot about this part!" or "I could have done this better", but then I read your comments and I remember that I did my best with what I had at the time and I feel better haha. So thank you again for sharing this journey with me!

Real life has been hectic, to say the least, but I'll still be around to read those stories I'm addicted to (authors, you know who you are!). My reviews might come a bit late, but they'll come and that's a promise :D

Goodbye, folks! See you in the Christmas side story for some extra snippets on Won X Chaeryung, Madame Yoo, and of course Yeonhwa.

Stay safe, eat well, live happily and have a great, great day!