Page 121 of The Silence Between

“I'm good,” I laughed, patting my stomach. “Some of us don't have your metabolism.”

“Your loss,” she shrugged, serving the extra piece to Diego instead.

I leaned back in my chair, watching my siblings with a contentment that still sometimes caught me by surprise. Mari, home from her first semester at Northwestern, looking more confident and adult than ever. Diego, his awkward defensiveness gradually softening into something more open as therapy and proper academic support helped him navigate his challenges. Sophie, blossoming from child to teenager with artistic talent that continued to amaze me.

And Ethan, moving among them with the ease of someone who belonged, teasing Diego about his new haircut, admiring Sophie's latest drawing, comparing notes with Mari about university professors.

“Time for presents!” Sophie announced, bouncing in her seat with an enthusiasm that reminded me she wasn't entirely grown up yet, despite her insistence otherwise.

The gifts were modest but thoughtful—art supplies from Mari, a vintage camera Diego had found at a thrift store and refurbished himself, books and music Ethan and I had selected together. Sophie exclaimed over each one, her gratitude genuine despite the simplicity of our offerings.

As she finished opening the last gift, Diego cleared his throat dramatically.

“So,” he said, looking between Ethan and me with uncharacteristic directness. “Are you guys ever going to make it official, or what?”

I nearly choked on my lemonade. “Excuse me?”

“You know,” he pressed, emboldened by Mari's poorly suppressed grin and Sophie's sudden rapt attention. “You've been together for like, forever now. When are you going to admit it's permanent?”

“Diego!” I hissed, feeling heat rise in my face.

“What? It's not like it's a secret.” He rolled his eyes in a perfect teenage expression of exasperation. “Ethan practically lives with us already. His toothbrush has been in our bathroom for months.”

“And his books are mixed with yours on the shelf,” Sophie added helpfully.

“Plus you guys are disgustingly cute together,” Mari chimed in, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Always finishing each other's sentences and giving each other those looks.”

“What looks?” I demanded, knowing my face was probably approaching tomato-red by now.

“Like that one,” Diego said, pointing as Ethan and I glanced at each other in mutual embarrassment. “That 'help me deal with these children' look.”

Around us, other park-goers turned at the sudden burst of laughter from our table—Mari doubled over, Sophie giggling behind her hands, even Diego cracking a genuine smile at his own joke.

“You all think you're so funny,” I muttered, but couldn't help smiling myself.

“They have a point, you know,” Ethan said quietly, surprising me by taking my hand on top of the picnic table where everyone could see. “We haven't exactly been subtle.”

“Yeah, but I didn't think they'd stage an intervention at Sophie's birthday party.”

“It's my party and I'll pry if I want to,” Sophie sang, adapting the old song with a cheeky grin.

“Seriously though,” Mari said, her expression softening into something more sincere. “It's about time you guys admitted what everyone already knows. You're good together. You make each other happy. And after everything... well, you both deserve that.”

I looked around at their faces—all three watching us with varying mixtures of amusement, affection, and impatience. These weren't the vulnerable children I'd once needed to protect from every complication. They were growing up, understanding more than I sometimes gave them credit for, capable of accepting change and even welcoming it when it brought good things into our lives.

“Well?” Diego prompted when the silence stretched too long. “Are you going to say something, or just sit there looking constipated?”

“Diego!” Mari scolded, but she was laughing too.

I looked at Ethan, who was watching me with that patient expression I'd come to know so well—giving me space to find my way, never pushing, but always steadfastly present.

“I guess they've got us figured out,” I said, squeezing his hand.

“Took them long enough,” he replied with a smile.

“Took you long enough,” Sophie corrected. “We've known forever.”

Something in Sophie's simple statement broke through my last hesitation. I turned to Ethan, cupped his face in my hands, and kissed him full on the mouth. The kids erupted into cheers and whistles, Sophie's delighted squeal cutting through the park.

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