Page 116 of Seal the Deal

I don’t register it to start with. It’s just Meadow, talking a mile a minute like she always does. But then it hits me, knocking the air from my lungs.

For a moment I can’t move. Can’t breathe. All I can do is see that one word echoing in my mind.

Dada.

The ground is shifting beneath my feet, the whole world tilting on its axis.

Charlie catches my eye, her soft smile brimming with a love that says everything without a word. She knows—she always knows. And she’s giving me the space to feel this.

Meadow, oblivious to the impact of her words, tugs at my arm again, this time with more insistence. “Dada?Did you hear me?”

My throat bobs, and I blink, trying to push back the burn in my eyes as I crouch down in front of her. “Yeah, Princess,” I say, my voice hoarse, fighting to keep it together. “I heard you.”

A knot forms in my chest, tightening with every beat. Overwhelmed, thrilled, terrified. And damn if it’s not breaking me in the best way possible.

“We’re all on the same team,” I repeat softly, the weight of the moment settling over me.

Meadow beams, blissfully unaware that she’s just flipped my entire world upside down with that one word. She goes back to playing, her little world unchanged.

Noah glances up from his LEGO, his eyes flicking to mine for just a second before he goes back to his building. Like he’s registering what just happened but doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the shift in the air, a new kind of bond quietly taking root.

We’ll figure it all out in time. Right now, I just want to let this sink in, let it fill up parts of me I didn’t even realize were hollow.

I stand slowly, my mind still racing, and I catch Charlie’s eye again. She’s not freaking out. If anything, there’s a knowing smile on her lips, like she’s been waiting for this moment.

I clear my throat, trying to shake off the intensity of it all.

Charlie steps closer, lacing her fingers with mine and squeezing gently, grounding me in a way only she can. I look at her, and the smile we share is full of understanding, of unspoken promises we’ll unpack later.

We let the moment settle, pretending it’s as ordinary as any other day, even though I can feel its weight sinking into my chest.

“Guess I’ve got some big shoes to fill,” I say, just loud enough for her to hear, a mix of pride and awe thickening my voice.

She leans in, her lips brushing my cheek. “You’re doing just fine, Captain Thunder,” she whispers, love woven into every word.

I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her closer as we watch the kids continue playing, blissfully unaware of how much they’ve just changed my life.

In the back of my mind, that one word keeps replaying on a loop.

Dada.

It’s not something I ever expected to hear, but now that I have, I can’t imagine wanting to be called anything else.

This is what home feels like. To belong. To have a family. To beDada.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

***

The cabin is alive with the sound of laughter and Christmas music, Mariah Carey belting out “All I Want For Christmas” for what feels like the hundredth time.

Charlie’s been dancing around the living room like a woman possessed, singing at the top of her lungs, twirling Meadow in her arms, belting out the high notes with exaggerated theatricality. The kids are still hyped up on sugar from the chocolate Santas they’ve devoured, and the chaos of the morning hasn’t slowed down much since.

I can’t help but grin as I watch her, completely caught up in her own ridiculous performance, making goofy faces and spinning around like a kid herself. Every now and then she shoots me a look, daring me to join in, but I stay planted on the couch, chuckling at her antics.

She’s had a glass or two of bubbly, and I’m pretty sure that’s fueling this Christmas karaoke spree.

“I know you want to join me, Brooks!” she shouts over the music, her face flushed and her hair bouncing around her shoulders as she wiggles her hips.

---