"That's wonderful," I tell her, handing over her backpack. "You're becoming quite the expert at sharing."
Evan steps closer, lowering his voice. "I was thinking, since it's Friday, maybe we could grab dinner? I know this great Italian place that Charlie loves."
The offer is innocent enough on the surface, a single dad reaching out to his daughter's teacher. But I've seen the way he looks at me when he thinks no one is watching. The too frequent "accidental" touches. The gifts that cross professional boundaries.
"I appreciate the offer," I say, keeping my distance, "but I have plans tonight."
His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Hot date?"
"Something like that," I reply, watching the muscle tic in his cheek.
"Well, maybe next time," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. The contact makes me flinch. "Charlie would love to spend more time with her favorite teacher."
I step back, his hand falling away. "Have a good weekend, Evan. Bye, Charlie!"
They leave, but not before Evan casts one more lingering look over his shoulder. I exhale slowly, wiping my hands on my dress as if I could wipe away the discomfort his presence leaves.
"Everything okay?" Ms. Davis asks, appearing beside me.
"Fine," I assure her, forcing a smile. "Just excited to start the weekend."
She gives me a knowing look. "Those two handsome men who surprised you earlier still waiting?"
I can't help the blush that heats my cheeks. "They are."
"Well, you've been the most dedicated teacher I've ever had," she says, patting my arm.
I make quick work of closing up the classroom, my mind already out the door and in the truck with Trenton and Matthew. My heart hammers against my ribs. After six years of waiting, of building a future from a distance, it feels impossible that it's all about to begin. That our house, the one I've never spent a single night in, is about to become a home. I couldn't bring myself to move in without them.
The house was always meant for all three of us.
At exactly four o'clock, I push through the day care doors and spot them immediately, leaning against Trenton's truck, deep in conversation. They look up simultaneously as I approach, twin smiles spreading across their faces.
"There she is," Matthew says, straightening. "The woman who's been occupying my every thought for six months."
"Ready to go home?" Trenton asks, his voice soft in a way that's reserved just for me.
"More than ready," I reply, allowing myself to be pulled into their embrace. "I still can't believe you're here. For good."
"We have a lot to catch up on," Matthew says, opening the passenger door for me.
As Trenton drives us toward the outskirts of town, I watch the familiar landscape pass by, my mind whirling with questions. "I can't believe this is real. Was it a sudden decision, leaving the SEALs?"
"After that last mission," Trenton admits, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the rearview mirror. "When we almost didn't make it back. We'd already put in our papers, but that was the moment we knew we'd made the right decision."
The house comes into view, a two-story modern farmhouse with a wide front porch. We spent countless video calls debating floor plans and paint colors. Every inch was chosen together.
"It's beautiful," I whisper as Trenton parks in front.
"We've been having the cleaning service maintain it," Matthew explains, "just like we discussed. But no one's been living here."
I look at him in surprise. "I thought you had a property manager staying in the guesthouse?"
Trenton shakes his head. "We couldn't do that to you. To us. This place was always meant for all three of us, together."
My eyes fill with tears as I take in the home we built literally and figuratively. The realization that tonight will be our first night here, as a real family, finally sinks in.
"I can't believe this is real," I say as we climb the steps to the front porch. "After all these years of waiting…"
