“That’s because I rarely admit when I’m wrong. But this time, I was. I wanted you to be strong—not broken. Thought I was preparing you for life… turns out I was just pushing you away.” He pauses, then adds, “But you’re not me. You’re better.”
My throat tightens. “Thanks, Dad.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder, solid and warm, and we head back inside.
Isabel’s already watching from across the room, her gaze warm, knowing. I mouth, thank you, and she smiles like she already knows what just happened.
She motions for me to come to her—and I do, without hesitation.
Everyone gathers in front of us like they’re expecting a damn speech or something. Shit. My throat tightens. I don’t have anything prepared—this was supposed to be a casual celebration, not a public declaration.
Derek and Sebastian are already grinning like a pair of smug Cheshire cats, and Sebastian raises a bottle in my direction, that knowing glint in his eyes saying, You got this, man.
My fingers twitch at my sides. I glance at Isabel—my anchor, my calm in every storm—and suddenly I find the words.
“Isabel would be the best for a speech,” I start, my voice rough with affection and nerves. That earns a round of laughter, just enough to ease the tension strangling my chest. “But I want to thank each one of you for being here tonight. It means more than I can put into words.”
“Wouldn’t miss your face,” Sebastian calls out with a wink, and the tension cracks completely, replaced by warmth.
I laugh, heart pounding. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my beautiful wife,” I say, eyes locked on Izzy. Her hand tightens in mine. “I owe her my life.”
“Amen to that,” CJ says, lifting his bottle, and others follow. A quiet cheer ripples through the group.
The moment stretches, and something shifts inside me—something I didn’t expect to feel so deeply. Peace. A sense of finality. A chapter closing.
“After all these years…” My voice wavers just a bit, but I steady it. “I want to announce that this—everything leading to this night—has been my latest mission. And now… I’m ready to retire from active service.”
Gasps mix with soft murmurs, and I don’t let myself hesitate. I pull Izzy close, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Her scent—warm, familiar, home—wraps around me like a promise.
I lift my gaze to my father. His eyes lock on mine. There’s no anger in them. No shadow of disappointment. Just… pride. Real, unmistakable pride.
My mom nods, slow and sure, her eyes glassy with emotion. For the first time in my life, I feel it fully—accepted. Not for who I was expected to be, but for the man I chose to become.
And damn, that’s everything.
Izzy pushes a small gift box with my name on it.
Curious, I opened it. A green tissue paper peeked out.
Then yellow.
Pink.
Red.
Purple.
Orange.
Blue.
“You’ve cut down a forest,” I said, amused.
Everyone laughed. I peeled back layer after layer of tissue paper, then finally, at the bottom, was a white onesie. My breath caught.
Dad’s little love.
Tears burn my eyes.
