Page 127 of The Secrets We Built Together

The Willowbrook Art Gallery—a name we'd debated for weeks before deciding that sometimes the simplest choice was the right one—was packed wall to wall with people admiring Blake's work. Every piece told a story, captured a moment, evoked an emotion that lingered long after you'd moved on to the next canvas.

The day I bought the old medical practice was a dark day for me. I wanted a place to isolate myself, a project to tear aboutand funnel all of my frustration and fear into. And now it was so much more. It was a brand new art gallery showing the work of my beautiful soon to be wife. I’d never been so proud of anyone else in my entire life.

A small hand tugged at my pant leg, and I looked down to see Amelia grinning up at me. She’d blossomed into the perfect little girl over the past year and no that wasn’t just my biased opinion as her father. Our entire family adored her.

"Up," she demanded, raising her arms.

I scooped her up and settled her on my hip, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "What do you think, little bug? Should we go find Mama?"

Amelia immediately pointed toward Blake. At nearly two, she was already showing signs of being as headstrong as her mother. And just like me, she loved Blake so much that she was never far from her side. The relationship the two of them had was beautiful. And at night, when Blake reads her a story, they say goodnight and thank you to the picture of Madison that sits at the side of her bed. She knows Madison is the mama who grew her in her belly so that Blake could be the mama who grew her in her heart.

We weaved through the crowd, stopping to accept congratulations and answer questions about the art. I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride every time someone complimented Blake's work or asked about a particular piece. She'd poured her heart and soul into this show, spending countless nights in the studio I'd built for her in our home, emerging exhausted but exhilarated, paint splattered across her clothes and sometimes even in her hair.

"There she is," I murmured to Amelia, pointing out Blake, who was deep in conversation with a woman I recognized from Blue Point Bay's art scene.

Blake caught my eye over the woman's shoulder and smiled, that secret smile that was just for me. Even after all this time, it still made my heart skip a beat.

"Excuse me," she said to the woman, making her way toward us. "My family needs me."

My family. Two simple words that never failed to make my chest tighten with emotion.

"How's it going?" I asked as she reached us, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Amazing." Her eyes were bright with excitement. "I've sold eight pieces already, and that woman from Blue Point Bay wants to feature my work in her gallery next month. It will be a good promotion for the gallery too."

"I told you they'd love you," I said, adjusting Amelia on my hip as she reached for Blake. "Everyone does."

Blake took Amelia from me, bouncing her gently. "Isn't this incredible? Look at how many people came to support Willowbrook's newest arts destination."

I glanced around at the crowd, nodding in agreement. Our little town was becoming known for more than just Booker's rehabilitation ranch. Between the clinic's success and now Blake's gallery, Willowbrook was transforming from a sleepy small town into a genuine tourist destination.

"Xander!" Emma waved enthusiastically, making her way toward us with her husband, Finn, in tow. "We just wanted to thank you again for coming out last week when Finn cut his hand. I don't know what we would've done if we'd had to drive all the way to Blue Point Bay."

"It's my job," I said with a smile. "How's it healing?"

"Good as new," Finn held up his bandaged hand. "Though I still can't believe I sliced myself on a bread knife, of all things."

The decision to become Willowbrook's on-call emergency doctor had been an easy one once I'd realized what I trulywanted: a life where I could be there for my family while still using my skills to help others. I coordinated with the clinic in the next town, handling emergencies and routine care right here in Willowbrook so people didn't have to travel for every minor issue. It wasn't a full-time position, which meant I had plenty of time to be with Blake and Amelia, to work part time at the clinic, to simply live.

But most of all, to be the father I'd never had.

"Xander," Blake touched my arm, bringing me back to the present. "Can you take Amelia for a minute? Delaney wants to show me something."

I took our daughter back, settling her against my chest where she immediately laid her head on my shoulder, her eyelids drooping. It had been a long, exciting day, and she was finally running out of steam.

"She's adorable," Reece said, appearing at my side with Booker. "Hard to believe how much has changed in a year, isn't it?"

"Sometimes I can hardly believe it myself," I admitted, gently swaying to keep Amelia comfortable. "But then I look at them, and I can't imagine any other life."

Booker clapped me on the shoulder, his expression reflecting both pride and concern. "The ranch's bookings for our second year are already filling up. You were right about the demand."

"Good thing we started those expansion plans early," I said, my mind briefly turning to Gage. It had been a rough time dealing with everything that had happened. I pushed the thought away, focusing instead on tonight's celebration.

The crowd began to thin as the evening wore on, and soon only our closest friends and family remained. Dex was helping Trace and Booker move some furniture to create a small dance floor in the center of the gallery, while Delaney and Reece set up a playlist on the sound system.

"Look at little Barrett," I said, nodding toward where Delaney had settled with her nearly one-year-old son. "He already looks so much like Trace."

"Poor kid," Booker laughed.

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