Finn gave me his band—thicker, smooth, warm from the pillow. I slipped it on, his fingers curling in mine as if to say,I’m not going anywhere.
We both lingered.
The officiant’s voice cut through the hush. “By the authority vested in me by the state of Florida, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss.”
Chase didn’t hesitate. His hands found my face, fingers strong yet gentle, the faintest tremor betraying all the ways he was feeling what I was. His lips met mine, not rushed, not hesitant, just full. Certain. He tasted like nerves and home.
The room fell away, except for the distant sound of Eli’s soft “Woo!”
I leaned into Chase, laughing against his mouth, and his arms encircled me. My whole body sang with relief, with joy, with the ridiculous fact of our love having survived so many unlikely odds. I never thought happiness would smell so much like courthouse cleaning fluid and yet feel like the safest thing in the world.
Sunlight hit me square in the eyes the second westepped out of the courthouse, burning off the lingering chill of the linoleum floors and government air conditioning. It was pure Keys outside—palm trees rustling under the breeze, birds waging war over crumbs on the sidewalk, the scent of something grilled drifting over from a café across the street. For a minute, I stood there, letting the new shape of my life sink in, every bit as solid as the bands now warming my finger.
Chase reached for my hand, his palm hot against mine. His wedding band caught a glint of light, almost defiant in its newness. Everything—bustle, traffic, tourists arguing down the block—felt backgrounded by this rush of happiness fizzing through my chest.
Eli was the first to break the spell, of course. He swooped in, clapping Chase on the back with a grin that said brotherhood, celebration, and maybe just a tiny bit of competitive envy. “There it is. Shotgun wedding mission accomplished!”
Jules smacked him in the stomach. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”
Eli made a show of crumpling over from her blow, then quickly recovered. “Unreal, man. You got married before me and Jules. I guess I’ll have to start crocheting doilies and shopping for rings before you two show me up any further.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Pressure’s on.”
Chase straightened his tie and shot Eli a deadpan look. “Doilies would really suit your aesthetic. Maybe a little macramé in your dive shop next.”
Jules wrapped me up in a hug so genuine it nearly undid me for the second time in ten minutes. She pulled back, keeping one hand on my arm. “Congratulations, Harper. I mean it.” Then she murmured in my ear, “If youneed help keeping these lunatics in line, you know where to find me. I have some experience with that.”
“I might hold you to that,” I whispered back, my throat squeezing tightly. The two of them ambled down the steps, Eli’s arm resting over her shoulders.
Finn marched up between Chase and me, the navy pillow held loosely now that it was all over. He gazed up at Chase, brows furrowed, all business. “Okay. I did my job. Now can we get pizza? And can you help me build the birdhouse, Dad?”
The word hung in the air for half a second, as if even the heat and noise of midday Florida paused to let it settle. Chase blinked, just once, then let a slow, beautiful smile break across his face. He bent down, knee to concrete, and tousled Finn’s hair, ring glinting against the soft brown.
“You bet, buddy. Pizza first, then advanced avian engineering. Are we thinking standard-issue wren box, or do we go luxury, with a wraparound deck and ocean view?”
Finn pondered for a long, six-year-old second. “We should make it with a pool. Birds need to cool off too.”
Chase winked at me as he stood. “That’s us. Full-service contractors. You dream it, we build it.”
When Chase stood once more, I tucked myself into his side. His arm wrapped firmly around my waist. He didn’t say a word, just let his hand drift over my stomach.
Gentle, steady, quietly sure.
My own hand covered his. Underneath everything, the flutter of hope and secret joy pressed between us. For a breathless instant, our eyes locked, all of it understood in the space of that shared look.
He leaned close, mouth grazing the top of my hair. “Ready for the next phase, Mrs. Ashworth?”
The name slipped under my skin and left a trail ofpure warmth. I kissed his jaw, couldn’t help the smile that took over my face. “More than ready. Let’s go.”
The five of us—plus one not fully acknowledged yet—walked down that bright Florida sidewalk together, sun on our faces, future wide open and beautifully unfinished. Our own chaotic, hard-earned joy. Family, in every sense that mattered.
And with every step, I knew.
This was right where I was meant to be.
