Then DeSantis signs the "Ethical IVF" law. Reproductive assistance limited to heterosexual married couples. Insurance companies required to flag same-sex couples. "Traditional family structure" verification required. 

The call comes Tuesday morning. Kevin making eggs. Humming off-key like he does when he's happy. 

"Hi, this is Michelle from Miami Fertility," too cheerful for what's coming. "I'm... really sorry, Mr. Martínez. We submitted your insurance pre-auth, but it bounced back flagged under the new state compliance rule." 

I feel the ground shift. "So we can't do IVF here?" 

"You can. But not with coverage. Sixty to eighty thousand. Out-of-pocket." Numbers that might as well be moon rock. 

That night, Kevin shows me the clip. DeSantis at his podium, smug and smooth: "These folks are welcome to pursue baby-making on their own time and their own dime. Florida taxpayers know what marriage is." 

Kevin flinches. Stops the video. "I can't listen to that." 

I sit down hard. The call. The clip. The law. It isn't just no. It is: You don't belong here. 

"Maybe this isn't meant for us," Kevin says that night. 

I look at him. Jaw tight. Because I know this system like I know my own reflection. I've fought it in courtrooms, in briefs, on the record. Now it has followed me home. Laid its hand on something sacred. 

I am not done fighting. 

So we make the choice. Abandon the life we've built, or abandon the family we want. 

We pack the U-Haul. Leave the jobs. The condo. Kevin's practice. Leave the city that raised me, the streets where my grandmother taught me to drive. Drive west to California, where the laws let us exist. 

Starting over at thirty-five isn't just expensive. It's exhausting. Always proving you belong somewhere new. Always wondering if the ground might shift again. 

Now we're renting in West Hollywood. Kevin rebuilding his patient base, one referral at a time. Me working contract law, studying for the California bar. Our fertility savings? Gone. Moving costs. Deposits. Starting over isn't cheap. 

But here's the difference: In California, we're not criminals for trying. We're not ghosts. We're just another couple fighting for something simple. The right to love forward. 

This time, I'm fighting in a state that doesn't make loving illegal.