I laughed, pulling Sam into our hug. “We’ll talk about the puppy.”
“YES!” Leo shouted, doing a little dance. “I’m getting a puppy! Can we name it Trouble? Like the first puppy I met?”
Sarah appeared in the doorway of the waiting room, her eyes bright with tears and her phone in her hand. “I hope you don’t mind, but I may have texted Jack and Harper. They’re on their way over with Emma and champagne.”
“And cookies?” Leo asked hopefully.
“Definitely cookies,” Sarah laughed.
As if on cue, the clinic door burst open, and Jack, Harper, and Emma tumbled in. Emma made a beeline for Leo, squealing with excitement.
“You did it! You asked her!” Emma grabbed Leo’s hands, and they jumped up and down together.
“She said yes!” Leo announced proudly. “Chloe-mama’s gonna adopt me and marry Daddy, and we’re gonna be the Mitchells! And they’ll have matching rings like your mama and daddy.”
Harper pulled me into a tight hug, crying happy tears. “I’m so happy for you. All of you.”
Jack clapped Sam on the shoulder, grinning. “About damn time, Mitchell.”
“I know,” Sam said, but he was smiling. “I got there eventually.”
I looked down at the ring on my finger, then at Sam holding Leo.
Almost eight months ago, I’d found an engagement ring receipt and had to hide my excitement. I’d walked around doing silent fist pumps and suppressed squeals because I couldn’t let on that I knew.
I’d been so sure I knew what my future looked like. I’d been completely wrong. And thank God for that.
Because what I had now was better than any proposal at the Rosewood Inn could have been. Better than the fairy tale I’d imagined while I counted down days to my birthday.
My internal cheerleader – the one who’d done backflips over a receipt – wasn’t doing backflips now.
She was quiet. Content.
Happy.
Epilogue 1
Chloe - Almost One Year Later
Istared at the plastic stick in my hand, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
Two lines.
Two very clear, very pink lines.
I sat on the edge of the bathtub in our master bathroom, my hands trembling slightly as I read the instructions for the third time, even though I knew exactly what two lines meant.
Pregnant.
I was pregnant.
Sam and I hadn’t been trying, but we hadn’t exactly been preventing either. After Leo’s adoption was finalized three months ago – Jenna had signed away her parental rights without contest, hadn’t asked to see him even once, and David had covered all our legal expenses including gifting a significant sum for Leo’s education fund – we’d had one of those late-night conversations about the future where Sam had said, “If it happens, it happens. I trust us to handle whatever comes.”
And I’d agreed.
But knowing something might happen and holding proof that it was happening were two very different things.
I looked down at the test again, as if the lines might have changed in the last thirty seconds. They hadn’t. Still very much there. Still very much real.
