Page 111 of Breakaway Daddies

Louder.

More magical.

And yeah… this baby inside me? Surprise or not, it’s just one more reason to keep going.

One more piece of this weird, wonderful puzzle we’ve built together.

“I’m happy,” I say finally. “God help me, I really, truly am.”

Ally smiles wide, then steals one of the juice boxes and tosses the other to me. “Welcome to the club.”

“It’s so great,” I say, easing Lyra into the crook of my arm so I can sip from the juice box Ally tossed me. “We even got a puppy. Which, okay, I thought I was going tohate, but it turns out I’m not dead inside after all. I actually like the little maniac.”

Ally arches an eyebrow. “You? Liking something that poops in the house and chews on everything?”

“I was just as surprised as you are.” I grin. “But don’t worry, I balanced out the emotional growth and got another snake. Bruno called it my ‘consolation reptile.’”

Ally snorts and shakes her head, absolutely delighted. “Only you would celebrate personal development with a snake.”

“Hey, I contain multitudes,” I say, with faux elegance. “Besides, I deserved it. The boys have been fighting over the name of this new baby since I told them. Again.”

Ally groans sympathetically. “Do I even want to know the frontrunners?”

“No,but I’ll tell you anyway. Thomas wants something ‘whimsical and worldly,’ his exact words. Bruno is on a mission to name the baby after some obscure Slovak folk hero who, like, turned into a bird or something? And Rowan wants something simple like Sam or Lily, which honestly would be great if the other two weren’t turning it into another naming war.”

Ally cackles. “At least it’s on brand.”

“I swear,” I sigh dramatically, “the next pet we get is going to be named‘Compromise’just to make a point.”

We’re still laughing when Kenzie appears, holding one of her triplets against her hip. Her face is red and tear-streaked, a fresh scrape on their knee and the beginnings of a world-ending tantrum building behind watery eyes.

Kenzie looks frazzled but determined, like a general in a glitter-covered war. “Minor emergency,” she says. “Battle wound. Demands snacks, kisses, and possibly a song.”

“Standard park triage.” Ally nods seriously.

But before anyone can move, Braden materializes out of nowhere, all calm energy and soft hands. He gently takes her from Kenzie, making soothing noises and pulling a wipe from his pocket like some kind of dad ninja.

She quiets almost immediately, clinging to him and sniffling while he inspects the scrape like it’s a national crisis.

I watch the scene unfold with a warmth blooming in my chest, soft and deep and heavy with gratitude. There’s so much love here. In this park. In this weird little family we’ve built from scratch.

Ally leans over, nudging me with her shoulder again. “We’re doing pretty okay, huh?”

I smile, looking at her, then back to Braden and Kenzie and the swirling storm of kids just beyond us. Then I look down at the babies in my arms, and the gentle swell of the one growing inside me.

“Yeah,” I say. “We really are.”

The sound of shouting draws my gaze, and I glance past the playground toward the wide patch of grass where the guys are attempting to play a very questionable game of football.

“Attempting” being the operative word.

Rowan’s trying to explain the rules, again, with the fervor of a man who still believes he can teach a group of chaos goblins how to follow instructions.

Thomas is half listening, spinning the ball on one finger like he’s showing off for an invisible crowd, and Bruno? Bruno’s already given up and is aggressively arguing that they should switch to something “with clearer historical context, like rugby.”

Kenzie, Ally, and I watch them from the bench, all of us slightly feral in our own mom ways, juice-stained, snack-laden, and barefoot because why fight it?

“Is Rowan actually trying tocoachright now?” Kenzie asks, brow lifted, one twin on her hip and the other using her arm as a jungle gym.

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