“I’m more than okay,” I said finally. “I think I’m… exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
His arms tightened around me at that.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “You are.”
“Riley is so smart,” I said. “I’ve been picking her brain about youth programs and how to deal with teenage girls.”
Braden chuffed a laugh. “If anyone knows how to do it, it’s her. Does that mean you’re still thinking about teaching after this season?”
“Well…”
But I couldn’t get another word out because chaos erupted in the next room when Sebastian got first place in the Mario Kart race.
He jumped up, swooping his baby sister off the floor and running around with her while she giggled in his arms. Kyle swooped thembothup in a Herculean effort when they ran by him, and then he was using his baby girl’s tiny fingers to point at each of his friends.
“In your face! And yours! And yours!”
The room was shrieking with laughter, and even when things settled a bit, it was still madness.
Everyone was talking over each other. No one was really listening.
And yet… everyone was seen.
Braden shifted behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder as we both watched them.
“This is what we needed,” he said quietly. “Just… a second to breathe.”
I nodded, covering his hands with mine.
The season had been relentless. Games, travel, pressure — all of it constant, all of it demanding. But this… this was their pause. Their reset. Their reminder of why they did any of it in the first place.
Family.
Not the one you were born into.
The one you built.
“Come on!” Riley called suddenly. “We’re doing gifts before dessert, because if I wait any longer, I’m going to explode.”
“That sounds like a personal problem,” Leo muttered, but he was already pushing off the floor to join her.
“Emily!” Mary waved me over. “You have to open yours first.”
I glanced up at Braden. “I’m scared.”
“You should be,” he said solemnly. “With Mary, it could be a very thoughtful piece of art or a whole ass animal you have to care for.”
He grinned, pressing one more quick kiss to my cheek before guiding me toward the tree.
I barely made it into a sitting position before Giana shoved a wrapped box into my hands.
And as I peeled back the paper, surrounded by laughter and commentary and way too many opinions, I felt it again — that overwhelming, chest-tightening certainty.
This.
This was everything.
Not the spotlight. Not the expectations. Not the endless chase to be more, do more, prove more to myself or anyone else.
