My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out. It’s a text from Norah.
Baby shower tomorrow at 2 p.m.
I smile, typing back:See you tomorrow.
I set the phone down and close my eyes, rocking gently. The sun is warm on my face. The house is quiet.
And I am so incredibly happy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Knox
In the last eight months,the warehouse has transformed from a sterile living space into a home that bursts at the seams with life.
The main room is loud tonight, filled with the overlapping voices of our pack and the laughter of children. I stand near the kitchen island, watching the scene unfold with a sense of contentment that settles deep in my bones.
Maisie is running circles around the coffee table, fueled by sugar and excitement. She’s wearing a plastic crown and a superhero cape, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.
Norah is on the sofa, baby Rosie asleep on her chest. Wren, Beau, and Simon are nearby, cooing over Nell.
Stella flew in from London a few days ago. She’s currently at the island, stealing a deviled egg from a platter and arguing with Eli about the superiority of British chocolate.
“He’s wrong,” Eli says to Stella, holding a mug of tea and looking entirely too comfortable. “Swiss chocolate is superior. It’s creamier. And less waxy.”
Stella scoffs. “Boring. British chocolate has history. It has character.”
“Character is a nice word for ‘gritty,’” Eli counters, grinning.
My eyes track back to the center of the room.
Amber.
She’s sitting in a large armchair I brought home specifically for her. She is magnificent. Her pregnancy has taken over her body, swelling her breasts and belly until she is round and soft and glowing.
She wears a loose, flowing dress that accents the mound of her stomach. Her skin looks luminous, flushed with health and life.
She looks up, catching my gaze. She smiles, and the sight of it hits me like a physical blow to the chest.
I used to think I knew what happiness was. I was wrong.
“Okay, everyone!” Jude claps his hands. “Cake time!”
Riley, one of the owners of Lorelai’s Bakery, wheels in a cart. On it sits the most absurd cake I have ever seen. It’s three tiers, covered in intricate frosting that looks like a bouquet of wildflowers.
Amber laughs, covering her mouth with her hands. “You guys... this is too much.”
“Nothing is too much for you,” Fallon says, coming up behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his hands on her belly. He kisses her temple, loud and exaggerated, making her giggle. “Happy baby shower, Sunshine.”
“Happy baby shower,” Eli and I echo.
We crowd around the table. The lights dim. Amber closes her eyes for a moment, placing a hand on her belly. Then she blows.
Everyone cheers. Maisie cheers the loudest.
We slice into the cake. It’s incredible—light, floral, not too sweet. We eat standing up, leaning on counters, spilling out onto the patio to talk.
