Lillian’s lips curved in a grateful smile, softer than Gwen had seen all night. “Thank you. Most people just give me the ‘oh, you’ll change your mind’ speech.”
“Not me,” Kiera said firmly, then smirked. “I can’t believe I had more than one, most days. I love them, but they do take over your entire life, you know?”
The three of them laughed, easy and tired, and the room felt warmer for it.
Kiera leaned back against the pullout cushions, twisting the cap off her water. “Honestly,” she said, “I can’t even picture Pete and Danica with kids. Can you imagine?”
Gwen huffed a laugh before she could stop herself. “I can imagine the baby having a surfboardandchore chart by the time it’s two.”
“And Pete teaching it to swear before it can talk,” Kiera added, grinning now. “They’d be those parents who bring the toddler to poker night and let it stack the chips.”
Lillian’s mouth curved, amused. “Or take it to Vegas for its first birthday.”
That got Kiera snorting water out of her nose. Gwen couldn’t help laughing too, the sound easing something tight in her chest.
“God help us if they ever do it,” Kiera said, wiping her face with her sleeve, still smiling. “The world’s not ready for a Pete-and-Danica baby.”
“Maybe the world needs one,” Gwen offered, still chuckling. “Chaos balanced with color-coded spreadsheets. It could be, like, the first President of Earth or something.”
They all laughed again, the sound filling the quiet suite, and for the first time since slipping out of the piano bar alley, Gwen felt her shoulders unclench.
The laughter tapered, leaving only the hum of the minibar fridge. Kiera twisted the cap of her water bottle in her hands, her expression softening.
“Can I ask you something?” she said gently.
Gwen looked over, wary but open. “Of course.”
“Do you think you and Maggie will ever have more?” Kiera asked, voice careful, like she was stepping barefoot across glass.
For a moment, Gwen couldn’t breathe. Her throat worked. It was one of the first times Gwen had talked so openly aboutbabies since they’d lost their last pregnancy. A termination due to a nonviable chromosomal anomaly. She felt her shoulders stiffen under the weight of it — the memory of sterile hallways, monitors beeping, Maggie’s hand clutched in hers as the doctor explained there was no safe way forward. The way Maggie had cried, and how Gwen had swallowed her own tears because one of them had to. That was when their marriage had initially gotten so closed off, when Maggie had begun to retreat into herself instead of lean on Gwen. And Gwen had dealt with it all by throwing herself into work, to get through each day without trying to get lost in the loss of something that hadn’t even begun.
She shook her head, quick, firm. “No,” she said, her voice steady enough that only she could hear the crack in it. “No, that’s… not in the cards.”
Kiera nodded softly, her eyes kind, not pushing.
Gwen cleared her throat, forcing her tone lighter. “What about you and Izzy? Think you’ll have more?”
Kiera shrugged, leaning back into the cushions. “The girls are already a handful. Most days it feels like I’m running a circus with just the two of them.” She smiled, faint but warm. “But Izzy… she’s going to make a great stepmom. Eliza and Quinn already adore her. So who knows? Maybe two’s enough.”
Something in her voice — pride, love, maybe even surprise — made Gwen’s chest ache in a gentler way this time. She smiled, small and real, and tipped her water bottle toward Kiera’s. “They’re lucky,” she said quietly.
Kiera flushed, ducking her head, but the smile didn’t leave her face.
Kiera took a long sip of water, still blushing faintly, and Gwen let the silence rest between them, easy and companionable.
Then Lillian, who’d been quiet for a beat, shifted on thecouch. Her bare feet tucked neatly beneath her, posture softening in a way Gwen hadn’t seen much of.
“You know,” she said, her voice low but sure, “you’re all incredibly lucky.” She glanced between them, the lamplight catching the curve of her smile. “To have this. To have each other as family, even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy.”
Kiera blinked, surprised, then smiled. “Yeah. We are.”
Lillian looked down at her hands, then back up, and her expression carried something rawer than her usual polish. “I’m grateful Izzy — and you, Kiera — made sure I got pulled into the circle, too. I’ve… never had people like this before, so it’s nice to know it’s even a possibility.”
The words landed softly, but they stayed. Gwen felt them in her chest, the quiet kind of truth that couldn’t be brushed aside.
Kiera’s smile widened, warm and a little damp at the edges. “You’re stuck with us now. No take-backs.”
Lillian let out a laugh, light but real, and Gwen found herself smiling too.
