Making breakfast in this lodge.
Watching Aidan crawl across these floors while the men argue over coffee and Harper makes faces at Poppi.
I can picture a life where the promise I made to Sophie doesn’t feel like a death sentence.
It feels like… a beginning.
I glance down at Aidan again, at the way his eyes are bright now, curious, alive.
And I whisper in my head,Sophie… I think I found it. I think I found where we’re supposed to be.
Gavin’s shadow falls across the blanket, and when I look up, he’s closer now—close enough that I can feel him without him touching me. “You okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod, my voice a little unsteady. “Yeah.”
His eyes search mine. “You look different.”
“How?”
I glance around at the babies, Harper, the men… the warmth. The laughter. I swallow. “Like I can breathe.”
Gavin’s gaze softens, and for a second, he looks like a man who wants to say something dangerous. Instead, he just holds my eyes.
And something passes between us that feels like a vow.
Unspoken. Heavy.
Real.
TEN
GAVIN
The lodge is louder than usual.
Not loud like chaos—loud like life. Like the kind of noise that doesn’t raise your blood pressure, it lowers it. Laughter. The soft burble of babies. Harper’s voice doing that bright, sing-song thing she does when she’s talking to Poppi like Poppi is a tiny CEO with very important opinions.
Kayley’s laugh threads through it all—lighter than it was yesterday, still cautious around the edges, but real. It hits me in the chest every time. Like my body recognizes the sound as something it’s been missing.
I’m posted near the table with Rafe and Rhett, pretending to pay attention to Wyatt’s laptop screen while my eyes keep drifting to the blanket on the floor.
Aidan and Poppi are belly-down like two little seals, kicking their feet, occasionally smacking the blanket like it owes them money. Harper keeps adjusting Poppi’s hat every thirty seconds as if Poppi is going to suddenly start taking headshots for Vogue.
Kayley mirrors her without even realizing it—tugging Aidan’s sock back on, smoothing his hair, wiping drool from his chin with a tenderness that makes my throat go tight.
This is what I want.
Not the war room. Not the gear. Not the constant threat assessments.
This.
Warmth. Babies. A woman who looks like she belongs here even though she just arrived, like she’s been a missing piece we didn’t know we had.
Rafe nudges my shoulder with his elbow. “You’re staring.”
I glance over. “I’m not.”
Rhett doesn’t even look up. “You are.”
