“Anybody home?”
“It’s Grand Central Station today,” I muttered, laughing as I headed to the landing. “Up here, Marcus! Come see Alana’s room.”
He joined us, his easy smile fading as he pulled me aside.
“I heard from the detective this morning, with news of Roger’s transfer,” he said quietly. The jovial energy from earlier shifted. Relief mingled with a strange, unfamiliar sadness as I listened to the update.
“North Central Arizona,” Marcus said, his tone cautious. “He’s far from here, Savvy. He’s not asking for you or Alana. So you don’t have to worry.”
I nodded, forcing a smile, but the questions lingered. What had broken inside Roger to lead him down this path? While I was grateful for the distance, I couldn’t shake the faint trace of pity I felt for him?
As Marcus and Mya descended the stairs, Jackson lingered by my side. His gaze searched mine, his low voice breaking through my thoughts.
“What are you thinking about, Savvy?” he asked softly.
His voice stirred something deep within me, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out the words I’d been holding back.
“You!”
“I need more of you in my life,” Jackson said, his voice low and rough. “I don’t know how I’ll handle it when you move back here. It’s going to feel so... empty.”
His words sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, and I averted my gaze, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. Could I do this? Could I really take the leap?
When I looked up, his eyes were locked on mine, filled with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. At that moment, something inside me shifted. The walls I’d built—the fear, the doubts—cracked, giving way to a truth I could no longer deny.
“I love you,” I said softly, my voice trembling.
Jackson stilled, as if the words had caught him off guard, but then a slow, radiant smile spread across his face.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he murmured, pulling me closer.
“I love you Savvy!”
I smiled through the tears threatening to spill. “Then we’ll figure it out, Jackson. Because I need you, too.”
Epilogue
Jackson
Balloons and streamers were everywhere, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze. The backyard was alive with laughter, chatter, and the kind of chaotic joy that only came with a toddler’s birthday party.
I reached out and tapped one of the floating balloons near me, grinning when four toddlers tore past, each determined to reach it first.
Their giggles filled the air as I leaned back in my chair, soaking it all in. It wasn’t just the party—it was the life we’d built together.
Marcus strolled over, a cup of fruit punch in hand, and set it down in front of me.
I raised a brow. “You spike this, Marcus? Because you know I’ve got a long drive home.” To make my point, I motioned toward my house just next door.
Marcus smirked, lifting his own cup in a mock toast. “Guess you’ll have to drink it and find out.” He took a sip, his expression as unreadable as ever.
I watched him for a moment, then took a tentative drink. No foreign taste. I gave him a mock salute in return, and he chuckled.
“Relax, Jackson. Even I wouldn’t pull that at a four-year-old’s party. Though you should know better than to doubt me. You’ve been step-dad for months now.”
“Not quite,” I corrected, setting the cup down. “Haven’t made it official yet.”
Marcus cocked a brow, while leaning back in his chair. “What’s stopping you? You’ve had the ring for what 4 months? You’ve got the girl. Hell, you’ve got the kid calling you daddy half the time.”
