Then his eyes flick toward Elijah, a flash of mischief cutting through everything.
“And,” he adds, “a girl would give Elijah a heart attack, so I think the universe owes me that.”
Elijah rolls his eyes, but there’s no bite in it. No tension. Just something familiar.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl,” he says, stepping in closer, his hand coming up to cup the back of Lia’s neck. The gesture is instinctive. Possessive. Natural.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to her temple, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin.
“I’m just happy we’re having a baby.”
That’s when I know for certain.
He’s back.
Not completely free of what’s sitting under the surface, but back where he belongs with her.
I move toward them then, slower, letting myself feel it instead of rushing through it. When I reach her, I don’t speak straight away, I just touch her.
My hand sliding along her arm, grounding myself in the fact that she’s here, that she’s warm, that she’s real.
Then I pull her into me and kiss her.
Slow.
Deep.
Present.
Not rushed. Not restrained. Just… connected.
“How are you doing?” I murmur against her lips when I pull back.
“A lot better,” she says, and I can feel it in the way she leans into me instead of holding herself back. “I feel… more like myself.”
“I can see that.”
And I can. In every small movement. In the way she holds herself. In the way she looks at us.
“I’m glad the two of you had a moment,” I add quietly, my gaze flicking to Elijah for a second before returning to her.
She smiles, softer this time.
“We needed it,” she says. “And I think… I think I’ve got him back.”
“I told you,” I say gently. “He wouldn’t be gone for long.”
My hand drifts down to her stomach, resting there for a second before I lean in and kiss her again, softer now, letting the moment settle.
Jackson guides her to the couch, already talking, already asking about her writing, his attention locked onto her in that way that’s so purely him it almost makes me smile.
I stay standing for a moment longer. Watching. Letting myself take it in. And then Elijah’s phone buzzes.
The shift is immediate. Not sharp like before. But enough.
He looks down at the screen, and whatever he sees pulls something darker back into his expression.
I step closer.
