"Not bad," Sidney says, stacking them on a plate. "For a beginner."
We eat at the kitchen table, Max perched on his cushion, chocolate smeared around his mouth from the few chocolate chips Sidney allowed in his pancakes. It's chaotic and messy and perfect.
"So, shopping today?" I ask as we clean up breakfast.
Sidney nods. "Max definitely needs a proper bed. And I could use some... basics." She glances down at her worn jeans, which she's put back on despite the shower.
"Whatever you both need," I agree. "There's a mall about twenty minutes from here, has everything."
We spend the morning shopping, and I discover that outfitting a two-year-old and his mother is both more expensive and more enjoyable than I expected. Max is thrilled with the race car bed we find, bouncing on it in the store until Sidney has to pull him off. Sidney is more reserved with her own selections, despite my assurances that she should get whatever she wants.
"I'm not used to someone else paying," she explains quietly as Max examines a display of toy trucks. "It feels strange."
"Get used to it," I tell her, putting another shirt she was eyeing into the cart. "This is what co-parenting looks like. Sharing expenses, sharing responsibilities."
She looks up at me, something vulnerable in her expression. "Is that what we're doing? Co-parenting?"
Among other things," I say. "Unless you'd rather not..."
"No, it's not that," she says quickly. "It's just... strange to suddenly have help after two years of doing it all alone."
I reach for her hand. "You're not alone anymore, Sidney. Whatever else happens between us, you've got me as Max's father. That's not changing."
She squeezes my hand, blinking rapidly. "Thank you."
Max interrupts the moment, running up with a toy motorcycle clutched in his hands. "Bike! Like Daddy's!"
Both Sidney and I freeze at his words. Daddy. It's the first time he's called me that.
"Yeah, buddy," I finally manage, my voice rough. "Like Daddy's bike."
Sidney's eyes meet mine, and I see my own emotion reflected there. We're both thinking the same thing: there's no going back now.
Whatever we're building here, it matters. To Max, to us, to our future.
Epilogue – Sidney
Three years later
"Careful with her, Max!" I call out as my five-year-old son spins his little sister around, both of them squealing with delight. Emma's chubby legs dangle as Max holds her under her arms, her dark curls bouncing with each turn.
"I got her, Mama!" he calls back, slowing down to set her on her feet. At eighteen months, Emma is unsteady but determined, immediately toddling after her big brother as he runs toward the sandbox.
"He's good with her," Claire comments, handing me a bottle of water as she settles back onto our picnic blanket.
I smile, watching Max help Emma climb into the sandbox, holding her hand to make sure she doesn't fall. "He takes his big brother duties very seriously. Dean says he's a natural protector."
As if summoned by his name, Dean appears from behind the playground equipment, deep in conversation with Rage. Even on a day off at the park, there's always club business to discuss. Some things never change, even after three years of building our life together.
My eyes linger on my husband, still struck sometimes by how drastically my life has changed. The gold band on my finger catches the sunlight, a reminder of the vows we exchanged two years ago in a small ceremony in our backyard. Max served as the world's most enthusiastic ring bearer, insisting on practicing his walk down the aisle a dozen times the night before.
"Earth to Sidney," Claire teases, nudging me with her elbow. "You're staring again."
"Can you blame me?" I laugh, tearing my eyes away from Dean. "Look at them. They've still got that edge, even after all this time."
"Don't I know it," she agrees, her gaze drifting to Rage. "Sometimes I still can't believe this is my life."
"Me neither." I reach for a container of cut strawberries, offering her some. "Remember when we were both terrified and desperate?"
