"Hey, Eli?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you happy?"
I think about that. Really think about it.
Three years ago, when she asked me that same question, I said I thought so. Said I wasn't sure I remembered what it felt like.
But now?
Now I know.
I look around the cabin, at the toys scattered in the corner, at the photos Jade insisted we hang on the walls, at the woman in my arms and the daughter sleeping in the next room.
"Yeah," I say, and I mean it completely. "I'm happy."
She smiles against my chest. "Good. Me too."
"Even with the sleepless nights and the teething and living out here in the woods?"
"Especially with all that. This is exactly where I want to be."
"With a grumpy lumberjack?"
"With the man I love. Who happens to be a lumberjack. And who's a lot less grumpy than he pretends to be."
I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you."
"I love you too."
From the nursery, Emmy makes a soft sound through the monitor. Not crying, just shifting in her sleep. We both listen, waiting to see if she'll wake. But after a moment, she settles again.
"We made a good one," Jade whispers.
"We did."
"Think we should make another?"
I look down at her, surprised. "You want another one?"
"Not right now. But eventually. Maybe in a couple years. Give Emmy a sibling."
I think about it. About this cabin filled with more life, more noise, more love. About watching Jade pregnant again, about holding another tiny person we made together.
"Yeah," I say. "I'd like that."
"Really?"
"Really."
Her smile is radiant. "Okay. Something to look forward to."
We fall quiet again, and I think about everything that led me here. The war. The loss. The six years of isolation. The hardware store. The terrible lasagna. The kiss that changed everything.
All of it. Every moment. Every choice.
It brought me to this. To her. To Emmy. To a life I never thought I'd have.
