Page 62 of Hiss and Tell
“To showing up,” Aspen adds, lifting her wineglass.
“To love that multiplies,” I contribute, my water glass joining the informal toast.
“To butterscotch candies!” Milo shouts, making everyone laugh.
As the evening winds down and our guests begin to leave, I help clean up while Aspen puts an exhausted Milo to bed in his newleather jacket (after negotiating it down from wearing it to sleep to wearing it over his pajamas “just for tonight”).
“Good day?” I ask, settling beside her on the couch as the apartment returns to peaceful quiet.
“Perfect day,” she murmurs, curling into my side. “Did you see Derek’s face during Milo’s speech? When Milo thanked him at the graduation for showing up?”
“I saw it. He looked like someone who finally understood what he’d been missing.”
“Think he’ll keep improving?”
Through our bond, I feel her hope and caution, her desire to believe that Derek might become the father Milo deserves while protecting herself from disappointment.
“I think he’s finally ready to do the work,” I say honestly. “And if he is, Milo gets even more love in his life.”
“More love,” she repeats softly. “I never thought I’d be okay with that. With sharing him.”
“You’re not sharing him. You’re giving him more people to count on. There’s a difference.”
As we sit in the comfortable quiet of our apartment, listening to Milo’s steady breathing from his bedroom, I think about how far we’ve all come. An anxious librarian once afraid of taking up space.An overwhelmed single mother learning to trust. Anunreliable father finally discovering what showing up means. And a little boy who’s teaching all of us what love looks like.
Some families are born. Some are chosen. Some are reconstructed from broken pieces into something stronger and more beautiful than what came before.
Ours is all three, and it’s exactly what we all need it to be.
I stand and give Sebastian a look that I hope leaves no doubt about what I want to do in the bedroom when I ask, “Think it’s time for bed?”
He’s standing next to me in a flash, practically pulling me through our bedroom door. We wash up, then crawl into bed together.
He settles beside me with a contented sigh, his snakes immediately draping themselves along the pillows as he pulls me against his chest. The heat radiating from him is intoxicating—it always is—but tonight there’s something extra. The satisfaction of a perfect day, the pride in watching our family grow stronger.
“Enough talk about everyone else.” His hands find my waist, completely surrounding it, and when I lean close to brush my lips against his, the kiss tastes like promises and forever and the particular magic that happens when everyone you know gets along with each other.
“We should probably sleep,” I whisper against his mouth, even as my body presses closer to his heat.
“Should we?” His snakes seem to be smiling, swaying in lazy patterns that somehow make the room feel more intimate. “Because I was thinking we might have some celebrating of our own to do.”
The hunger in his voice sends shivers through me. “What kind of celebrating?”
Instead of answering with words, he shows me exactly what kind, and much later—after we’ve thoroughly appreciated each other and the life we’ve built together—we drift off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, ready for whatever beautiful chaos tomorrow might bring.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Epilogue
Eighteen Months Later
Sebastian
The sun is setting over the Aegean Sea, coloring both the sky and waves in shades of gold and rose that remind me of the magic we shared during our bonding ritual. I’m stretched out on a lounge chair on our hotel’s private balcony in Santorini, watching Aspen emerge from our room wearing a flowing white sundress that makes her look like a Greek goddess.
“Any word from Thad and Sloane?” she asks, settling into the chair beside mine and immediately reaching for my hand. The casual intimacy of the gesture still makes my heart skip—after everything we’ve been through, being able to touch freely, without barriers or fears, feels like a daily miracle.
“Milo sent approximately seventeen photos of his adventures today.” I scroll through my phone with my free hand, showing her the pictures. “Museum of Science, ice cream for lunch, and apparently Uncle Thad taught him how to whistle using two fingers.”
“Of course he did.” Aspen laughs, her thumb tracing circles on my palm. “I’ll be amazed if Sloane survives a week of both of them.”
