Trenton's hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining. "Charlie's at school until two."
I smile, remembering the conversation from what feels like hours ago. "Four hours."
"Three and a half now," Matthew corrects, but makes no move to get up.
The sunlight shifts across the ceiling, painting patterns through the curtains. In the quiet, I can hear birds outside, a distant lawn mower, the normal sounds of a normal Tuesday. My body feels deliciously wrecked, completely satisfied in a way I'd almost forgotten was possible.
"Morgan," Trenton says softly.
I turn my head to find him watching me with that intense focus that always makes my breath catch. "What?"
"We're happy."
The words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything we've survived. I feel tears pricking at my eyes and blink them away.
"Yeah," I say. "We are."
Matthew presses a kiss to my shoulder. "Even when it's hard."
I smile, thinking of Charlie's words that morning. "Especially when it's hard."
We lie there a while longer, tangled together in our bed, in our home. The adoption hearing is next week. Charlie's therapy continues. The security cameras still guard our perimeter. But in this moment, none of that matters.
Just this. Just us. Just the quiet certainty that whatever comes next, we'll face it together.
My phone buzzes from the nightstand. The screen lights up with a message from the preschool: Charlie had a wonderful morning! She's eating lunch now. Just wanted to check in!
I show it to Trenton and Matthew, who both smile.
"Little warrior," Matthew says, echoing Carter's nickname for her.
"She's doing so well," Trenton adds, pride evident in his voice.
I set the phone back down and snuggle deeper between them. "We all are."
The afternoon stretches before us, full of possibility.
Between my two men. In our home. In our life.
Safe.
chapter seventeen
Morgan
The evening light fades to a warm orange as we finish dinner. Charlie has spaghetti sauce smeared across her cheek, a streak of marinara that makes her look like she's been in a paintball fight. I reach across the table with a napkin.
"You've got a little something," I say, dabbing at her face.
She squirms but lets me clean her up. "Morgan, can we watch a movie tonight?"
I look at Trenton and Matthew, who are clearing the plates. The adoption hearing is tomorrow, and I can see the tension they're trying to hide in their shoulders.
"Just one," I tell her. "But we need to get you to bed early tonight. Big day tomorrow."
Charlie nods seriously, understanding the importance of tomorrow in her own way. She's been to therapy all week to prepare for the hearing, and Dr. Elaine says she's handling everything remarkably well.
"Can we watch the one with the flying house and doggy?" she asks, already sliding off her chair.
