Declan’s head snaps up. “Uh—”
I laugh, tired and happy. “We’ll start with Dad practicing how to hand them off safely, and then yes, you can.”
He gives me a mock glare, then leans in close to the babies again, voice low. “You hear that, rookies? Gotta earn your big sister’s trust.”
Sophie giggles, and for a moment the whole room feels brighter—so full it almost hums.
Two tiny bundles. One family.
And in that moment, I finally understand what forever feels like.
Epilogue Two
DECLAN
Winter light filters through the tall lodge windows, pale and soft as it drifts over the rows of chairs and pine boughs lining the aisle. Outside, snow clings to the branches. Inside, everything smells like polished wood, pine, and nerves.
I’m already in my tux, standing off to the side of the ceremony space as people chat quietly. Music hums from a speaker somewhere, but it all blurs at the edges. All I can hear clearly is my own heartbeat.
I’m supposed to be breathing. Relaxed. Calm.
Instead, my gaze keeps drifting to Sophie and the twins.
Our nanny Tessa’s holding Finn, while Sophie’s got Lila on her lap. Between them, it’s a small circus—ribbons, snacks, drool, the works—but they’ve got it handled. Sophie looks up at something Tessa says and grins, all calm confidence. One year of being a big sister, and she’s already got it down.
I rub a hand over the back of my neck.
Soon, Charlotte will walk down this aisle.
Even after all this time, I still can’t believe I get to marry her.
The last year and a half went by in a blur.
One minute Charlotte was moving into the house pregnant with the twins, and the next we were learning how to function on two hours of sleep, passing infants between games and feedings like some kind of deranged relay team.
Travel was harder than I expected, leaving her at home with the twins and kissing them all goodbye. I came back every chance I got: off-days, red-eyes, breaks between road trips. If I could get home, I did.
Charlotte went part-time with the Ice Foxes after the twins were born. Home games only, no travel. It was the perfect balance for her: enough to keep her doing what she loves, not enough to pull her away from the babies too long. And our nanny fills in the gaps.
Sophie adjusted faster than any of us. She went from twelve to thirteen with two babies in the house and somehow found her rhythm—fetching diapers, making them laugh, reading out loud while one of them drooled on her sleeve. Half the time I catch her humming to them like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And every day, Charlotte’s been steady, thriving. Even when we’re exhausted, even when I’ve been gone too long, even when the twins hit a phase where no one slept and the house turned into a battlefield of teething toys and bottles, she never loses that spark.
We built a life in the middle of the madness, piece by piece.
And in a few minutes, Charlotte will walk through those doors, and I’ll finally get to marry her.
I swallow hard, adjusting my cufflinks even though they’re already straight.
The wedding coordinator moves toward me, steps sure, eyes bright.
“Ready, Declan?”
I stand straighter. My pulse steadies. My hands stop fidgeting.
This is it.
I nod once.
