“I love you, Finley.
“Finn,” I correct automatically.
A grin. “Finn, Finley,” he amends. “And I love the life we’re making—the bright pink, blanket-making, demon-cat-filled,beautifullife we somehow managed to build out of pieces neither of us expected to have.”
My laugh comes out watery.
“So, since Chloe’s going to call you Mom”—he pulls a ring from his pocket, holds it up—“will you let me call you wife?”
I don’t even pretend to think about it.
“Yes!”
Chloe squeals.
Rhodes laughs, the sound full of joy, as he slides the ring onto my finger.
Then he stands and kisses me.
Slowly.
Tenderly.
Deeply.
LikeImatter.
Like I’llalwaysmatter.
And I don’t have to be brave to know it.
When we pull apart, Chloe wedges herself between us. “Now we’re arealfamily,” she announces.
Rhodes and I look down at her.
Then at each other.
And there it is again—the overwhelming, humbling certainty that the best things in life aren’t the safest ones.
They’re the patched-together, hand-stitched, hard-won ones.
The kind made from lots of different pieces, every square a part of something special.
And together?—
They form something so beautiful…
It will carry us into forever.
Storm
I tug at the black tie around my neck, hating the many pairs of eyes on me as I walk down the aisle and sit in the front row of the church.
It’s a bright day, sunshine pouring in through the stained-glass windows to send rainbows of color scattering this way and that.
Reminding me that Fate has a fucked-up sense of humor.
Norm Harrison was about as far from sunny as a person could get.
