“Can Honey come?” he asks, a question I predict I’ll get a dozen times a day.
“Of course. Keep her on the lead, though.” I peer at Story, who still hasn’t said anything. “Come on, let’s go.”
I jump out and open the door for Max, helping him to step out carefully. He takes one glance at the picnic blanket and ignores it to play with Honey.
“How did you do this?” Story asks quietly.
“James organized it for me. I told him what time we’d be here.” I drop down on the blanket and pat the space. “Join me.”
Twisting off the cap from the hot chocolate, I pour out a mug for her. She takes it and joins me while I pour out another. “I haven’t been here since the last time we were here together.”
“Me either,” she replies.
We sip, quietly watching Max run around with Honey. A million thoughts run through my brain, most of which have to do with the girl next to me, who I’ve known forever. I watch her watching Max, her faceexpressionless, and for the first time, I can’t read it.
“Still with me, Stor? Because this is my life. Hot chocolate, a five-year-old, and a puppy.”
Her gaze sweeps around the space, the hill, our hill, and finally lands back on me. “I’ve always been with you, Hendricks. Even when you haven’t realized. I don’t want a life of anything else.”
The weight of her stare hits me. The weight of her love warms me from the inside out, and I know now that this moment right here is worth everything we’ve been through separately and together.
Our future starts today, with a five-year-old sprinting toward us.
“Daddy, can Honey be my valentine?”
I laugh, deliriously happy. “Of course.”
“Actually”—his mouth twists, like it always does when he has a particularly deep thought—“if I’m Honey’s, then who is going to be your valentine?”
I glance at Story, then back at my son. “I was thinking that perhaps Miss MacIntosh could be, if that would be okay with you. What do you think?”
His nose curls up, and his eyes dart back and forth between us. “Sure. I guess,” he says eventually, only to be distracted again when Honey stretches onto her belly.
Story giggles quietly, reaches out to stroke Honey, then settles back into my side. I pour a hot chocolate for Max and pull him into my lap along with Honey.
We stay there on the picnic blanket until the sun begins its descent. We don’t move until long after it’s gone to bed, and it’s too cold to stay any longer. Quietly, we pack up. Max jumps into the car, and I carefullyplace a sleeping Honey on his lap.
“Daddy, d’you want to know something?”
I turn around to see him in the back. “Tell me, Maxy.”
“Today is the best day of my life,” he declares with his whole heart, and I’m inclined to agree.
“D’you know what, Maxy? Me too.” I look at Story, but she’s smiling at Max, radiantly happy and so fucking beautiful.
Then her hand reaches across, fingers slipping between mine. “Me three.”
Epilogue
HENDRICKS
Six weeks later
“Daddy, can we get a koala at home?”
I shake my head, which has become a habit at this point in the day. “No, bud, they belong here, in their home.”
“A zoo isn’t a home.”
