For a breath, it was like the whole world tilted on that small moment in time. And in the sweetest, most innocent tone, he asked if I could be his dad.
The air left my lungs. I reached for him, holding tight, and told him the truth, that nothing would make me happier.
It was seamless for him, natural in a way that left me undone. For Beckett, it was just naming what he already felt. For me, it was everything, like something broken deep inside had been set right at last.
I’m constantly in awe of him, the way he absorbs the world with such trust. He filled a space in me I hadn’t known was hollow.
Beckett barely stirs when Hank lifts him from her arms, his head lolling against his grandfather’s shoulder. Margaret squeezes Janie’s hand before they disappear into the crowd, Beckett safe between them.
The hum of the room hardens without him.
My gaze drops, just for a moment, to the faintest curve beneath the fabric of her dress. No one else would notice. But I do.
We only found out earlier this week and haven’t told a soul yet. Janie wanted to get through the ribbon-cutting ceremony.
When I reach her side, she leans inclose, her voice a whisper meant only for me. “I’m so glad baby number two gets to be here for this. Our little secret, our family of four.”
The word secret doesn’t hurt anymore because it's ours. Once, it nearly broke us. Now it binds us.
I press my hand over the smallest swell of her stomach, hidden from the world but not from me. She belongs here, leading, shining, carrying life in more ways than one. This stage, this spotlight, this respect is hers.
She thinks she fought her way here alone, and in the ways that matter, she did. That’s why I’ll never tell her about MJ Strong. She doesn’t need to know what I put into the foundation. All she needs is the certainty that it’s hers.
When the reception finally winds down and the last handshakes are made, we both look at each other and exhale. Both of our shoulders sag with the release of it all.
“You did it, baby,” I murmur, brushing my knuckles down her arm. “You’re the director of a center dedicated to helping people. It’s real, and I’m so damn proud of you.”
Her lips curve, soft and a little wobbly. “I couldn’t have done it without you by my side. We’re a team. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say, voice rough. “With all my heart.”
She tips her head toward the doors. “Come on. Let’s walk the new loop around campus. Two miles, brick-lined. As you're well aware, this was one of my biggest non-negotiables. A quiet place for families to unwind together.”
I lace my fingers through hers, the warmth of her palm sliding against mine, and we step outside. The doors close behind us, muting the chatter and clinking glasses. The night air is cooler, threaded with the scent of cut grass and the faint salt of the ocean. Crickets hum in the distance,their rhythm steady against the hush of traffic drifting from the bridge.
Janie lets go of my hand only to slip her arm through mine, her head resting lightly on my shoulder. Her perfume lingers, warm and familiar, mixed with the faint sweetness of the tea olive trees bordering the path.
For a long stretch, we don’t speak. There's only the sound of our footsteps scuffing against the bricks, the night settling around us, the world quieter with each step we take.
She breaks the silence first. Her voice is low, almost shy. “We should probably start talking about dates. With our little bean’s arrival now imminent.”
I glance down at her, caught off guard. “Dates?”
“For the wedding.” Her smile flickers, cautious, like she’s testing how the words sound out loud. I’ve asked her to marry me no less than ten times over the last year. Every time, she told me we needed more time.
Something twists in my chest. Hearing it from her lips makes it real in a way nothing else has. I stop walking, turn enough that she has to face me. "Are you saying you'll marry me, Janie Harrelson?"
"I think I'm ready. If you'll still have me."
"Yes! Whenever you want,” I say. “Wherever you want. I'd do it tomorrow if you're ready. Sky’s the limit.”
She arches a brow, teasing. “Careful. You’re giving me permission to blow the budget on flowers.”
I huff out a laugh, but the sound sticks. This is the moment. I don’t want to keep anything back, not now, not ever again.
“Janie,” I say, and my tone makes her still. “There’s something you should know.”
Her smile falters. “What kind of something?”