"We're not married."
"Not yet."
"Are you—" She turns to look at me. "Are you proposing? Right now? Outside your future grandmother-in-law's house after Sunday dinner?"
"Would that be the worst proposal ever?"
"Probably not the worst. But definitely not the best."
"Good to know I have room for improvement." I kiss her temple. "Not proposing yet. But thinking about it. About making it official. About showing Santiago what forever looks like."
"Forever's a long time."
"I'm aware."
"We'd be permanently attaching ourselves to each other. Legally, officially, no backing out when things get hard.
"Things are already hard. And I'm still here."
She's quiet for a long moment, just standing there with our sleeping son between us, the Phoenix night settling around us like a promise.
"Ask me again," she says finally. "When you're ready. When you have an actual plan. When it's not just theoretical future talk but real proposal. Ask me then."
"And you'll say yes?"
"Maybe. Depends on the proposal." But she's smiling. "You'd have to really sell it. Make it good."
"Challenge accepted."
We head back inside to find Abuela directing Izzy in kitchen cleanup, Miguel and Fernando in quiet conversation about club politics, Danny playing on his phone. Normal Sunday dinner chaos.
This is my life now.
Motorcycle club President. Father. Partner to a woman who saves everyone. Part of a family built from enemy territories and impossible odds.
It's complicated. It's exhausting. It's perfect.
And someday—soon—I'm going to ask Lena to marry me.
But first, I need to figure out how to propose to a woman who's seen me at my worst, loved me anyway, and built a family with me despite every reason not to.
No pressure.
Three days later, Dr. Reeves calls with an appointment time for Lena to see the clinic.
Thursday morning, nine AM, Izzy's babysitting.
Lena's nervous—I can tell by the way she keeps fidgeting with her hair, checking her reflection, asking if she looks professional enough.
"You look perfect," I tell her for the fifth time.
"I look like someone who hasn't slept through the night in three months."
"You look like a nurse who's about to see her dream become real."
"No pressure."
"None at all."
