“Yes!” both twins cheer.
As Carol heads to the kitchen, the girls trailing after her begging to help, Jonah pulls me closer.
“You’re really doing this,” he says quietly. “Staying? With us?”
“I’m really doing this.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “I called Mrs. Henderson on the way inside. Told her I needed to withdraw my application.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she had a feeling I’d found something better.” I smile. “Then she mentioned that Valentine Elementary is looking for a long-term substitute for their second-grade class. Teacher’s going on maternity leave in January.”
Jonah pulls back to look at me. “January? That’s next month.”
“I know. It’s perfect timing.” I trace patterns on his palm. “I can keep helping with the twins in the mornings, work at the school during the day, be back for evenings. And when a permanent position opens up...”
“You’ll be first in line.” He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “You’re sure about this? About all of it?”
“Terrified,” I admit. “But sure. Are you?”
“Terrified,” he echoes. “But I’m all in, Chloe.”
From the kitchen, I hear Mia’s voice: “Grandma, if Chloe stays forever, does that mean we get two Christmases now? One with her family and one with us?”
“Oh God,” I murmur. “I haven’t toldmymother yet.”
Jonah grins. “The one who wanted you to marry Derek and give up teaching?”
“That’s the one.” I groan. “She’s going to have opinions.”
Big opinions because that’s the only kind she has.
“Want me to come with you when you tell her?”
I look at him— at this man who’s willing to face my mother’s judgment with me, who’s letting me into his life and his daughters’ hearts, who’s choosing to take a risk on us despite everything he’s been through.
“Yes, please,” I say softly. “I’d like that.”
He kisses me, slow and sweet, and something new settles in my chest. Something that feels like coming home and being safe and finding hope.
“We’re really doing this,” I whisper against his lips.
“We’re really doing this,” he agrees.
From the kitchen: “They’re kissing again!”
We break apart, laughing.
“Come on,” Jonah says, standing and pulling me up with him. “Let’s go make cookies with our daughters before they eat all the chocolate chips.”
Our daughters?
It’s not overwhelming, like I would have expected, it’s comfortable and perfect.
I follow him to the kitchen, hand in hand, and think about how three weeks ago I was sleeping on Sarah’s couch, filling out job applications, convinced my life was going nowhere.
Now I’m here. In Valentine, Montana. In a house that smells like chocolate and vanilla. With two little girls who are arguing about who gets to crack the eggs. With a man who looks at me like I’m his whole world.
This wasn’t the plan.
