Page 114 of Shared By my Ex's Best Friends
The press of their love—unwavering, unflinching, wrapped around me like the night itself.
They don’t look at me like I’m a puzzle they’re trying to solve. They don’t flinch from the weight of my love, or the shape of my truth.
They don’ttolerateme. Theychooseme.
And for the first time in my life… I believe I deserve it.
This isn’t a dream I’ll wake from in an empty bed. This isn’t a secret I’ll have to bury in shame or shadow.
This is real.
This isours.
And it’s everything.
Chapter forty-five
EPILOGUE: MAYA—ONE YEAR LATER
I’ve got everything I never knew I could ask for.
My baby girl, soft and squishy and perfect, and my three loves, imperfect and wonderful, each of them the heartbeat to a life that once felt out of reach.
And this messy, magical existence we’ve built together, where love doesn’t follow the rules and happiness isn’t neat and tidy, but it’s real and full and ours.
The weekend my best friend comes to visit, the spring air is warm enough that we’ve got the windows cracked open.
The scent of lilacs drifts through the house, mingling with baby lotion and coffee and the faint sweetness of banana bread cooling on the counter. Sunlight slants through the gauzy curtains in the front room, catching the dust motes in a lazy, golden dance.
A lullaby hums softly from a Bluetooth speaker tucked beside a stack of board books, and the baby gurgles contentedly in my arms, tiny fingers curled around the strap of my tank top.
The screen door creaks, its hinges protesting like they always do. Ava stands frozen in the doorway with her hair in a travel-mussed bun, sunglasses perched on her head, a tote bag digging into her shoulder and something crinkly and wrapped in pastel tissue paper clutched awkwardly in her hands.
She looks at me and I watch her expression crumple.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, voice catching as her eyes fill.
In three quick steps, the bag thuds to the floor and she’s in front of me, arms around my shoulders, pressing the baby gently between us.
“You’re so happy. Like… glowing, I’ve-figured-life-out happy.”
She says it like she’s stunned. Like she can’t believe it’s real. Like she’s just stepped into a dream version of me she never thought she’d actually meet.
I laugh through my own tears, burying my face in her shoulder as the baby lets out a soft coo between us.
“I really am,” I say into her hair, holding her just as tightly. “I really, really am.”
A soft thud sounds behind us, footsteps padding barefoot across the hardwood. Jake passes through the hallway, tousle-haired and grinning in one of his worn Henleys, a muslin burp cloth tossed casually over his shoulder.
He leans in and brushes a kiss to my temple in passing.
“Hey, Ava,” he says easily, squeezing her shoulder before heading toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee in there. French press. Ethan’s been our personal barista lately.”
Ava snorts, brushing tears off her cheeks. “God, even he is charming now.”
From the kitchen, Ethan’s voice drifts out, wry and amused. “Hey! I’vealwaysbeen charming.”
There’s a dry laugh from the living room where Liam’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, assembling some fancy new toy for the baby.
