Good choice.
Juliette snorted. “Can’t really call it an emergency when you’re driving slower than Grammy.”
She wasn’t wrong. I was barely touching the gas. But my son had just entered the world, and I was on edge. Every bump in the road felt personal. Every car too close, a deliberate act of war.
?? ?? ??
My family were crawling all over the house by the time I parked.
Dad opened Juliette’s car door before I’d even turned the engine off.
Mom and Grammy were nearly coming to blows on the lawn, trying to reach the baby seat first.
The only sane people in the vicinity? Vera, Caleb, and Grace—lined up like the last calm before the storm, standing by the front door and wisely keeping their distance. They knew, they’d lived it through Grace.
“No one touches him without using the damn sanitiser!” I shouted, opening my door like I was launching a rescue mission.
Pandemonium broke loose.
Harsh words were said.
And Grammy?
That woman had a sailor’s mouth on her.
Goddamn.
Juliette
Two Years Later
I hadn’t spoken to my parents since the wedding. They sent a card—expensive, unsigned. It’s still in a drawer somewhere.
Funny thing is, I stopped needing their approval a long time ago.
They didn’t even reach out after Lucas was born.
Their silence said it all—just like their faces at the wedding, looking down on everyone who showed up for us with love.
I didn’t need them. Not when my son was surrounded by real family and friends.
Lights flashed behind me, and I checked my speed—it was fine.
The siren went on anyway.
I rolled my eyes and pulled over, switching off the engine and lowering my window.
My little car had died a suspicious death months ago, and no matter how much Kade denied it, I was certain he’d orchestrated it.
A very solid, very safe vehicle had appeared the next day. Courtesy of him.
Naturally.
I smiled the moment I heard the crunch of gravel under his boots.
“Do you know how fast you were going, ma’am?” he asked, dead serious.
“I’m sorry, Officer,” I said sweetly, doing my best to look appropriately intimidated.
