"We've never done anything the traditional way. Why start now?"
He has a point.
We lie there in the quiet, and I think about everything—first day back at clinic, saving Ghost's life, reconnecting with Zane, the promise of a proposal coming.
Six months ago, I gave birth to Santiago at thirty-seven weeks after a terrifying pregnancy.Three months ago, we were just surviving on no sleep and love.
Now we're building something bigger—clinic, family, future.
Not perfect. Not easy. But ours.
"I love you," I tell him.
"I love you too, Angel."
"Even with stretch marks and soft body and exhaustion?"
"Especially with all of that. You're more now. More powerful, more beautiful, more everything."
Santiago makes a sound through the monitor—not quite a cry, just a reminder he exists and has needs.
"Your turn," Zane says.
"I just had a full day of work plus saved Ghost's life plus initiated sex. You can handle one middle-of-the-night feeding."
"Fair point." He kisses me once more, then gets up to handle our son.
I lie there in bed, listening to Zane's voice through the monitor talking softly to Santiago. Telling him about his mother saving lives. About how strong she is. About how lucky they both are.
And I think,This is it.
This is everything I never planned on wanting.
Motorcycle club President. Six-month-old son. Legal medical practice.
Family built from impossible odds.
And soon—a proposal.
A wedding.
Forever.
Worth everything.
The next morning, I wake to find Zane already gone—note on the pillow that says "Club business. Back by lunch. I love you."
Santiago is still sleeping—minor miracle.
My phone has seventeen texts.
IZZY: How was the reconnection? Details. Now.
MIGUEL:Heard you saved Ghost's life. That's some powerful forgiveness, hermana.
DR. REEVES:Great first day. Same time next week?
And one from an unknown number:
