Page 213 of Push

Gwen tried to splutter a witty comeback, but her cheeks burned fire-engine red, and I tipped my head back, laughing—only for a moment. My smile faded. Was it okay to laugh so soon?

“Incoming!” a voice cried.

Cat dashed into the hall. Her face was white with shock, and she panicked, flapping a tea towel. Marnie came tumbling through the doorway behind her.

“What the—” My eyes darted everywhere. “Where’s the fire?” I was about to sprint for the kitchen when Cat screamed for me to stop. I followed the jab of her finger, pointing at the ground.

There he was. My little dude. Noah powered down the hallway on jerking, unsteady knees. The biggest smile lit up his face.

“He’s crawling!” Gwen shrieked. “Tobes! He’s crawling!”

“Hell yeah, he is!” I squatted down and started clapping him on. “Go, NoBo, go!”

Noah’s determined face had my heart swelling so big I wasn’t sure there was enough room left in my chest to hold it in. Gwen crouched beside me. She slung her arm over my shoulder, and I heard a muffled sniffle by my ear before she kissed my neck. She couldn’t cheer Noah on yet. She was too busy trying to hide her proud mama tears.

This was one of the moments John talked about. The ones worth everything. The ones I needed to keep fighting for. The treasured memories where Gwen was by my side as we watched our little boy blaze his trail into the world and our true family—stronger than just blood—standing strong behind us.

The only steps worth taking were forward.

We couldn’t look back.

Nothing—no one—would stop us now.

Epilogue

Gwen

A year…and a bit…later

Every law of geometryhad been broken to squeeze the Christmas tree into the corner of Cat’s living room. Noah called it“Ooge.”Barely a speck of green peeked through the twinkle of lights and baubles and tinsel.

So. Much. Tinsel.

“Oi! Gwen!” Toby huffed. “Stop getting distracted by that stupid twig and judge the winner already!”

I tore my attention away from the Christmas tree and the brightly wrapped gifts tumbling around its bottom like an avalanche. Toby scrambled. Puffing out his chest, he popped his fists on his hips and stuck his nose in the air Superman-style—ifSuperman were posing in a red knitted sweater with white pom-poms of woolly snow floating around a wonky snowman.

Beside him, Liam was no less hungry for the win, wearing the almost identical navy version. He folded his arms, a glare sliding to Toby from the corner of his eye.

I sighed.

Cat had lovingly toiled for hours knitting sweaters for “all her boys,” but frankly, they both looked ridiculous.

“It’s boiling outside,” I said, stalling for time. These battles always ended with pouting. “Do we really have to do this nonsense?”

Toby spluttered, “Nonsense?”

At the same time, Liam barked, “Obviously.”

I rolled my eyes. “Does everything have to be a competition between you two?”

“Yes!” they snapped.

Toby flexed his bicep. “See that, doll?” He grinned at me. “Those muscles are all yours if you say my sweater looks the best.”

“Oh là là.” I fanned my face. “Well, in that case, I declare the winner of this year’s sweater-off is…” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Toby.”

Toby’s whoop of victory drowned out Liam’s indignant scoff.

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