Page 109 of Breakaway Daddies

“Well…” Thomas leans over to peek at the babies, absolutely glowing. “We get to name them now, right? Like pick ’em out of a hat?”

I cradle both babies against my chest, their tiny, warm bodies curled into me like they were made to fit there. Their soft breaths puff against my skin, and their squirmy little hands keep trying to grab at each other, already connected in that twin sort of way I can’t quite explain.

I no longer feel alone.

Not in my body. Not in my life. Not in this chaotic, loud, beautiful space we’ve built together.

The boys are already back at it, of course, arguing, half-whispering, half-yelling about names. Thomas is insisting that we pick something “adventurous and cool,” while Bruno is making a surprisingly impassioned case for naming them after hockey legends, and Rowan keeps rejecting everything unless it “sounds like someone who could survive in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.” Classic.

I smile because it’s them, and I love them, and I love that this is what our life is.

“I’ve actually… been thinking about names,” I say quietly, running my fingers over the tiny patch of dark hair on my son’s head.

They all pause, looking over like I’ve just pulled out a secret winning lottery ticket.

“And I kinda want to name them something that means something. Something that reminds me of what we went through to get here.”

They go quiet, which never happens. Even Thomas stills.

“For the girl,” I say, voice soft, “I want to name her Lyra. Like the constellation. Because she’s the light I kept looking for, even when things felt impossibly dark.”

Bruno nods slowly, his eyes shining again. “It’s beautiful. And reminiscent of our date night.”

“And for the boy… I was thinking Orion. Because he’s strong. And he’ll always have his sister’s back… just like the belt and the hunter’s stars, always together in the sky.”

Rowan swallows hard, then leans in and kisses my temple. “That’s perfect, Jinx.”

“It’s more than perfect,” Thomas says, already tearing up. “They sound like little badass space warriors.”

Bruno lets out a laugh. “They’ll need to be, if they’re going to grow up with us.”

I pass Lyra into Rowan’s arms and then hand Orion to Bruno, who holds him like he’s holding a sacred treasure. Thomas leans in, brushing a gentle hand across the baby’s hair, grinning ear to ear like he just found a puppy he’s already named and claimed.

I sink back against the cushions, exhausted and sore and blissfully content.

Watching them, all of them, fall completely, irreversibly in love with these tiny humans. Watching the way their walls drop and their hearts stretch to make room for more than just hockey and chaos.

This life… It’s not what I imagined for myself.

I always pictured something different, gritty, solitary, built on independence and hard lines.

But this? This messy, loud, ridiculously loving life with three stubborn, beautiful men and two tiny stars cradled in their arms?

It suits me just fine.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

Jinx

One Year Later…

The sun is warm, the kind of mellow heat that settles into your bones without burning.

A soft breeze carries the scent of cut grass along with kettle corn from a vendor somewhere down the path. The park is filled with the sounds of shrieking laughter, the occasional clash of a toy against a slide, and a plastic sword clattering to the mulch as one of the triplets launches into full-scale pretend battle.

It’s chaos.

It’s always chaos, but I love it.

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