Page 147 of Claimed By The Other Brother

After everything that happened—the scandal, the suspension, the demotion—I never thought I'd get here. But Dax believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. He helped me see that what happened at Whitman Communications wasn't the end. It was a beginning.

I walk back to the window, looking out at the city that's become my home.

A soft cooing sound breaks through the construction noise.

I turn.

Dax is walking down the corridor, a burping cloth draped over one shoulder. He's in his suit pants and a white button-down shirt, no jacket, no tie, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. And cradled in his arms is our son—Thaddeus.

My heart does that thing it always does when I see them together—swells so big it feels like it might burst.

"There he is," I say, setting down my tea and walking toward them.

"How did he do?"

"Burped a little," Dax says, patting Thaddeus's back gently.

"But he's cool now. Isn't that right, man?"

He lifts the baby slightly, looking down at him with an expression so tender it makes my throat tight.

Thaddeus is three months old. Blue eyes like his father. Dark hair that's starting to curl at the edges. Perfect tiny fingers that grip anything within reach. I reach out, and Dax transfers him into my arms carefully. Thaddeus makes a small sound, his eyes blinking open, then closing again.

"You'll be eating solid food soon," Dax murmurs, raising his hand to brush Thaddeus's cheek.

"Isn't that right, Thaddeus?"

He leans down and presses a kiss to our son's forehead.

Then he looks upat me.

Our eyes meet, and everything else fades. The contractors. The noise. The city outside.

It's just us. Our family.

Dax leans in and kisses me. Soft. Sweet. The kind of kiss that saysI love youwithout words.

When he pulls back, his hand comes up to cup my face.

"You happy?"

He's looking around as he says it—at the office space, at the windows, at the contractors working. But I know he's asking about more than just the firm.

He's asking about all of it. The life we've built. The choices we've made. The future we're creating together. I look at him, at Thaddeus sleeping peacefully in my arms, at the office that will soon have my name on the door.

"More than happy," I say.

And I mean it.

A year ago, I was standing in my Chicago apartment, pregnant and terrified, convinced everything was falling apart. My career in ruins. My life a mess. My future uncertain.

But standing here now, I realize I have everything I could have ever hoped for: A family. Real love. A career I'm building on my own terms. A partnership with someone who sees me—all of me—and loves me anyway.

Everything I didn't have before.

Everything I never knew was possible.

Everything I found with Dax.

Thaddeus stirs in my arms, and I adjust him gently. Dax movescloser, wrapping his arm around my waist, and we stand there together at the window, looking out at the city.

Our city.

Our life.

Our beginning.

THE END