I catch him easily, lifting him up into my arms.
“Dada loud,” he says again.
“Yeah,” I laugh. “Still loud.”
He pats my face.
“Good loud.”
“I’ll take it.”
Tilda watches us, something steady and warm in her expression.
“You meant that?” she asks quietly.
“What?”
“What you said out there.”
I shift Jesse slightly on my hip.
“Yeah,” I say. “I did.”
She studies me for another second.
Then nods.
“Okay.”
That’s it.
No grand speech.
No dramatic declaration.
Just—
Okay.
And somehow, that means more.
“Come on,” I say, jerking my head toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Already?” she asks.
“I’ve had enough spotlight for one night.”
She smirks.
“Miracles do happen.”
We walk out together.
No cameras.
No crowd.
Just a quiet corridor leading away from the noise.
