“Everyone survived,” I say dryly. “Which, historically, is not a given.”
Connor laughs. Theo smiles—small, genuine, content.
We drive with the windows cracked despite the chill, the road damp and dark from melting snow. The town slips past in familiar pieces: the diner, the hardware store, the rink looming behind us like it always will. No one’s in a hurry. No one needs to be.
Life has found a rhythm.
The house feels lived-in now—not just occupied. Shoes by the door that aren’t all Beau’s. Extra mugs in the cupboard. Connor’s jacket permanently draped over a chair like it’s grown roots. Theo’s books stacked neatly on the coffee table, dog-eared and well-loved. My things woven in everywhere: a scarf over the bannister, my running shoes by the back door, a faint lingering scent that no longer feels like an intrusion.
I didn’t realize how much I’d been bracing before.
Dinner is loud and messy and deeply unremarkable in the best way. Someone burns the garlic bread. Someone else eats it anyway. Theo does his exercises without complaint. Connorsteals food off Beau’s plate and earns a half-hearted glare that ends in a smile.
Later, we end up tangled together on the couch, limbs overlapping, warmth shared. There’s no urgency tonight. No edge. Just closeness.
I rest my head against Beau’s shoulder and let myself really feel it.
This is my pack.
Not perfect. Not finished. Not locked into something rigid or predefined—but real. Chosen. Built with care instead of fear.
Beau still visits his mom every week. I go with him more often than not now, and she remembers me more days than she doesn’t. Connor’s already talking about summer training, itching to stay sharp. Theo’s balancing rehab with plans for his off-season work, steady and thoughtful as ever.
Nothing feels fragile.
The future stretches ahead—not blank, not overwhelming, just… open.
I don’t know exactly what shape our pack will take a year from now, or five. I don’t need to. Love doesn’t have to be a contract to be true. Bonds don’t have to be rushed to be strong.
For now, this is enough.
I’m safe. I’m wanted. I’m surrounded by people who show up—not just when it’s easy, but when it matters.
The last of the winter melts away outside.
And for the first time in a very long time, I’m not waiting for something to fall apart.
I’m looking forward.
Whatever comes next, I know one thing for sure—
I won’t be facing it alone.
The End
