Page 98 of Six of Hearts
Back inside, I found Mila and Hazel in my bedroom, carefully wrapping my picture frames in newspaper.
"Is this your mum?" Mila asked, holding up a photo of me and my mother from my college graduation.
"It is," I said, sitting down next to them on the floor.
"She's pretty," Hazel said quietly. "Like you."
"Thank you, sweetie." I looked at the photo, at my mother's proud smile. I'd called her last week to tell her about the engagement, about the dads, about all of it. She'd been shocked, then concerned, then—after I'd talked for nearly two hours—cautiously supportive.
"As long as you're happy," she'd said. "That's all I've ever wanted for you."
I was happy. Deliriously, impossibly happy.
"Are you really going to live with us forever?" Mila asked, her brown eyes serious.
"That's the plan," I said.
"Good." She went back to wrapping frames. "Daddy's been smiling more since you came back."
My throat tightened. "Has he?"
Hazel nodded. "He was really sad when you left. He tried to hide it, but I could tell."
"I'm sorry I left," I said, meaning it. "I was scared and confused, and I made a mistake. But I'm not leaving again. I promise."
"Pinky promise?" Mila held out her little finger.
I linked mine with hers. "Pinky promise."
In the living room, I found Theo and Oliver “organising" my books, which mostly seemed to involve building towers and knocking them down.
"We're making a library!" Theo announced.
"I can see that," I said. "Very architectural."
"That's what Daddy does," Oliver said proudly. "He makes buildings."
"He does. And you know what? We're going to need someone to organise all my books at the new house. Think you two can handle that?"
They nodded enthusiastically, and I made a mental note to buy some low shelves for Noah's house. The kids should be able to reach the books.
Noah's house. Our house now.
We'd talked about the logistics for hours. I'd rotate between all their houses—spending time with each family, making sure no one felt neglected. But Noah's house was the biggest, the most central, and honestly, the one that felt most like home. His guest room would become mine, at least officially. In practice, I'd probably end up in someone's bed most nights.
The thought made me blush.
"Aria!" Finn appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath. "Dad says we're ready to load the truck."
"Already?" I looked around at the organised chaos. Somehow, despite the kids' "help," we'd actually made progress.
Outside, I found Ronan directing traffic like a general commanding troops. He'd rented a moving truck, and Liam, Ethan, and Julian were already loading furniture.
"Couch first," Ronan called out. "Then the dresser. Aria, where do you want the kitchen boxes?"
"Wherever there's room," I said. "Most of it's going to donation anyway."
He caught my eye and smiled, and I felt that familiar flutter in my chest. Even now, after everything, he could make me feel like a teenager with a crush.
