Air rushes out of me. Beckett’s hand tightens around mine, one quick squeeze that saysI’m still right here.
Another board member clears his throat. “You turned out to be a fine man, even when you didn’t have to. And it sounds like you have a strong community.”
“I do,” I say. It comes out steadily.
“Good. Go live your life,” the man adds, softer. “We’ll handle the rest.”
As soon as we enter the hallway, Beckett’s hand still in mine, everyone turns to look at us. I still can’t believe they’re all here.
All that love in one narrow hallway. It hits me low and hard.
I’ve spent years trying to be the big, steady version of myself—the quiet weight, the protector who doesn’t flinch. With them, I get to be human. The relief of that almost buckles my knees.
“Hey,” Sofia says, tugging me in. I fold into her hug and breathe in oregano and home. “That’s my boy.”
“Proud of you,” Jaxon says, voice thick.
Spencer adds, dry as ever, “Also, you owe me two hours of staff coverage.” And the laugh breaks the tension like a window cracked for fresh air.
One by one, they pull me close. No speeches, no advice. I look around and don’t just see couples, I see people who worked for their lives—who learned boundaries, fought old stories, chose tenderness on purpose. No one got here by being who someone else wanted. We all did the work and then chose each other.
I turn back to Beckett. He hasn’t let go. His eyes shine, andthere’s that little line at the corner that shows up when he’s holding big feelings together with humor.
“You okay?” he asks, low.
“Yeah.” The word feels true in my mouth. “I am.”
He exhales, relief loosening his shoulders. “Good. Because I’m going to keep doing that annoying thing where I show up. Well, I’ll also just annoy the shit out of you in general.”
“Promise?” I ask.
“Promise,” he says, and kisses me.
I didn’t think I’d ever have this part: the intimate kind of love that sits beside you through the worst of times and still tastes like hope. Now that I do, I don’t want to put it down. I can’t. It’s not just him either—though my chest hurts in that sweet, stupid way when I look at him—it’s all of them. The family we made because we wanted to, because we could, because we decided to be the soft landing for each other.
“Greasy and judgmental?” Olly asks, already halfway to a grin.
“Chili fries,” Beckett says. “Nonnegotiable.”
“Ooh, pie,” Jasper adds.
Sofia wipes my cheek with her thumb, like I’m a kid again. “I’m so proud of you.”
I nod, throat tight. “I love you,” I say. And then to Beckett because I need him to hear it again. “I love you.”
He smiles as if he’s just found nirvana. “Me too.”
We move as a group toward the elevators, hands brushing, shoulders bumping, the kind of messy orbit you only get when the worst is over and the fries are waiting.
I lace my fingers with Beckett’s and let myself feel all of it—the relief, the love, the ordinary miracle of having people to go share a meal with.
“Nuh-uh, little mouse. I didn’t say you could come.”
Sweet fuck, he couldn’t have decided to go all edgy last night?
“Sir,” I say and shake my ass.What? I’m not a monster.“Normally, I’d be all down for this, but we’re going to be late.”
“Good thing I’ve already decided that we’re going to be fashionably late.” He winks and then picks up the pace.
