He jerks his chin to Lane, who is talking to Beth, Nate'swife. Lane's hand rests protectively on our daughter as she laughs at something Beth said. The sight of her, glowing, happy, mine again, makes my chest tighten so hard I think it could burst.
"Yeah. I out-punted my coverage on that one." I sip my Manhattan, tasting nothing but gratitude. A year ago, I would've grabbed that Chief position without a second thought. Another line on my resume. Another notch up the ladder that led nowhere important.
Nate grins and raises his glass. "Guess you finally figured out what matters."
I don't respond right away, watching my wife across the room. The way her dimple flashes when she smiles. The soft curve of her belly beneath satin.
"Took me long enough," I finally admit. "Almost lost everything figuring it out."
As I look up, I catch Lane watching our exchange, her eyes meeting mine. Even at a distance, I can feel the connection between us, stronger now than it ever was.
Lane and Beth join us, her mischievous smile melting me.
"Anyone need a cocktail?" Nate asks.
"Actually, I'm going to walk with you," Beth answers. “I want something, I just don't know what.”
I look at Lane and see that her sparkling water is almost full. "We're good, man. Thanks for the offer."
They stroll off, arm in arm. I pull Lane to me, kissing her on the crown of her head.
"Look at you," Lane smiles, reaching up to straighten my bow tie. "The mighty Dr. Beamer, mingling with the masses."
I catch her hand and press it against my chest. "I'd rather not mingle at all. Come outside withme for a minute?"
She nods, and I guide her through the glass doors onto the balcony. The evening air wraps around us, warm and thick with summer. In the distance, early fireworks pop and fizzle over the coastline, celebrating Independence Day. The fundraiser inside suddenly feels miles away.
Lane moves to the railing, her profile outlined in the soft glow from the ballroom. My heart catches the way it always does now, like I’m still not quite convinced she’s mine again.
“You never told me you turned down the chief job,” she says softly, her eyes on the city lights below. "Beth mentioned it like I knew, so I went along with it. Why didn't you tell me?"
I exhale, running a hand through my hair. How does she always know? “I was offered it right before Christmas. The hospital wanted me to head it up, run the program. But it would’ve meant constant travel, long nights, everything that tore us apart the first time.”
“Before Christmas? That was before we even knew if we could do this. That was before we decided to make it official.”
“I know. But I didn’t want to risk the chance. I'd rather have tried wholeheartedly than to risk losing you again.”
Lane’s throat works. “This would have been big for you, Woody. Maybe we could have figured it out.”
I shrug, watching the way moonlight catches in her eyes. “No, this is exactly big enough for me. You, me, Sanders, our baby girl on the way. That’s all I want.”
She takes my hand and guides it to the soft curve of her belly. A small kick ripples against my palm. My eyes widen, a stupid grin spreading across my face.
“That was…” I trail off, laughing under my breath.
“That’s our sassy girl,” Lane says, her own eyes glistening. “I think she got Maggie’s personality, based on how much she moves.”
The words hit me with a simple, staggering truth. Years ago, I would’ve thought turning down that job meant failure. Tonight, with my hand on our daughter, it feels like the biggest win of my life.
“Good thing I won’t miss a minute of it,” I murmur.
Her fingers tighten around mine. “I love you.”
The lights from the gala spill through the doorway, painting us both in gold. The man who once fled from bedtime stories and vulnerability now stands rooted in both. And for the first time, I know I’ll stay.
Inside, the band shifts into something slower, the melody curling through the air, wrapping around us. I squeeze her hand gently.
“Dance with me?”
