I swallow. “I should’ve done it earlier.”
“You did it when you were ready.”
I nod, and a beat passes. “In a month,” I say, “I start the San Diego schedule.”
His eyes light up. “Once a month… I can handle it. It’s going to change a lot of lives.”
“I hope so.”
He squeezes my hand. “It already has.”
The foundation has grown faster than I expected. Maria’s a force of nature. We’ve got programs planned for another two cities.
For years, basketball was my purpose. Now it’s part of my past.
Thisfeels like the future.
Rafe shifts closer, his knee pressing against mine. “You look happy.”
“I am.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I plan on keeping you that way.”
“Oh?”
He leans in, voice dropping. “I’ve waited twelve years for this version of you. I’m not letting you escape.”
I grin. “Escape where?”
He kisses me, apparently not thinking that needs an answer. It’s slow at first. Familiar and grounding. The kind of kiss that reminds me we chose this, over and over again.
When he pulls back, his gaze lingers.
“I’m hungry,” I say.
He laughs softly. “We ate not that long ago.”
“I meant…hungry.”
Understanding sparks in his eyes. He stands and offers me his hand. “Come here.”
I take it without hesitation.
The house is only half unpacked. The city hums beyond the windows. The future is wide and open and ours.
For years, I believed happiness was something fragile and temporary. Something that could vanish if I looked at it too closely.
Now I know better.
Happiness is work. It’s choice and presence.
It’s this.
His hand in mine. The weight of his gaze. The way the world feels steady instead of sharp.
As he pulls me toward the bedroom, I realize something simple and profound.
I don’t feel like I’m stepping into a new life.
