“I’ll marry you, Blade,” she whispers against my mouth. “Because I want you forever. Not because of a test or a what-if.Because you’re my home. Because I choose you. Every version of you. Every life we could have.”
My throat tightens so hard it almost hurts.
She rests her forehead against mine, breathing me in. “I want your name. Your ring. Your last name. I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life and know I belong. That we belong. Whatever comes next, I want it with you.”
I kiss her again, reverent this time, like I’m sealing a vow we haven’t spoken yet.
Then she takes my hand. “Okay,” she says softly. “Let’s look.”
We stand together. No space between us. No room for doubt. She picks up the test. Looks at it. Freezes. Then her breath catches, sharp and broken, and her eyes fill all at once. Positive. For a split second, the world goes silent.
Then I scoop her up, arms locked around her, lifting her clean off the floor as a laugh rips out of my chest and turns into something dangerously close to a sob. I kiss her, deep and unrestrained, pouring everything I feel into it. Love. Awe. Promise.
She clings to me, laughing and crying at the same time, happy tears sliding down her cheeks as she presses her face into my neck.
“We’re having a baby,” she whispers, voice shaking.
I hold her tighter, forehead to hers, heart pounding like it’s trying to break free. “Yeah we are,” I murmur.
She nods against me, still crying, still smiling. And in that moment, with her in my arms and our future suddenly real, I know this is it. This is everything.
EPILOGUE
BRI
Ten Years Later…
That’s how long it takes for barely surviving to turn into something loud and full and real. Something that smells like grill smoke and leather and baby powder all at the same time.
I’m in the kitchen lining up bottles for the sterilizer when I hear running feet and then…
“STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF!”
“I WAS JUST MOVING IT!”
“YOU MOVED IT WITH YOUR HANDS, THAT COUNTS!”
I don’t even flinch anymore. These two are feral, identical, best friends and each other’s worst enemy all at the same time.
“Girls,” I call, “are we yelling or are we crying?”
Two identical faces pop around the corner, hair wild, cheeks flushed, both wearing old Iron Reapers hoodies they stole from the laundry like tiny criminals.
“She took my book,” Dani says.
“I put it on the table so Jamie wouldn’t drool on it,” Demi argues.
“He drooled on your hoodie!”
“Because you handed him to me while he was chewing!”
Blade appears behind them with our baby on his hip, rubbing his back. He looks down at the girls. “Anybody bleeding?”
They both shake their heads.
“Did anybody cry?”
“No,” Dani says, then adds, “but I was gonna.”
