I look up and meet Poppy’s eyes over the couch as she stands in the kitchen.
We both silently freak out.
Then she turns away, wiping at her eyes like she’s just checking the roast.
I press my cheek to Owen’s hair and breathe.
Weston knocks and smiles when we let him in. His expression tells me something’s going on. “You’re not going to believe this.”
My chest tightens on instinct. Poppy’s hand slides into mine, warm and steady. Because normally, these types of meetings and hearing things like that haven’t been good for us lately.
“Sully came to see me,” Weston continues. “He signed away all his rights. Full guardianship to you and Poppy. He’s not fighting you on anything. He also signed the shop over to you. I don’t know what got into him, but he did the right thing here.”
The room is still, and my brain tries to catch up with what I’m hearing. The bikers made this happen. I’ll be damned.
“He didn’t seem happy,” Weston adds. “And he grumbled a lot, but he did it.”
“What did he say?” Poppy asks.
“Mostly complained about you messing things up for him with the club.”
I huff out a breath. “Shocking.” Everything has always been about Sully. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and he never has.
“I pretended I had no idea what he was talking about,” Weston says dryly. “I just focused on getting the papers signed. I had my eye on the prize, and we got it.”
Relief crashes into me so hard I have to sit down. Months of waiting for the other shoe to drop, and suddenly there isn’t one. It’s all over.
Poppy squeezes my hand, her eyes bright and wet. She feels it, too. She laughs once, a shaky sound that turns into a breath.
“So,” I say, voice rough. “Does this mean everything is over?”
Weston smiles and nods. “It means you’re Owen’s legalguardians. Permanently. And if you want, you could pursue adoption. Make him a Kendrick.”
He pauses, then adds, “I’ve also checked with CPS. The case against you is closed. You should be getting paperwork confirming that any day now to keep for your record.”
I bite my lip, words rising before I can overthink them. “What if we changed our name?”
Poppy turns toward me, surprised. Weston’s brows lift.
“To what?” she asks softly.
“Wilder,” I say. The word feels solid. Right. “What if we became Wilders? What if we made a new line of Wilders and a new legacy with Owen?”
The room goes quiet again, but this time it’s the good kind, like the wheels are turning and they’re all considering it. The only Wilder who wasn’t worth a damn is Theresa, but she’s not in our lives anymore.
Poppy’s face breaks into a smile that wrecks me. “I love it, and I think Owen would love it too.”
“No one wants to be a Murphy or a Kendrick,” I say quietly.
Weston nods, his voice gentle. “I think your grandparents would be so proud of you both.”
My throat tightens. I squeeze Poppy’s hand and finally let myself breathe.
“Let’s do it,” I say.
The future feels like something we’re building and can be proud of.
Chapter 35
