Later that night, after the guests left and Lucas finally fell asleep against Ethan’s shoulder, we stood alone beneath the garden lights.
“You know,” Ethan murmured, “our son almost ate a candle today.”
“He’s ambitious.”
“He’s feral.”
“He’s yours.”
Ethan laughed softly.
Then he looked at me.
Really looked at me.
“I almost lost all of this.”
I touched his face gently.
“But you didn’t.”
A breeze stirred through the trees.
Hospital windows glowed nearby.
Somewhere inside those walls, another woman was probably in labor.
Another family changing forever.
And suddenly I remembered the terrifying moment Ethan lowered his mask in that delivery room.
The shock.
The anger.
The pain.
Back then, I thought the universe was punishing me.
I never imagined it was giving us one final chance.
Ethan pressed his forehead against mine.
“You didn’t ask,” he whispered with a small smile.
I smiled back.
“No.”
He kissed me again beneath the lights while our son snored softly between us.
And for the first time in years…
We finally felt like a family.
The End.
