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I shrieked as his fingers found every ticklish spot I had, laughter bubbling out of me until I couldn’t breathe.

“Stop,” I wheezed. “Please, I’m begging you—stop!”

He finally did, pulling me into his arms, my ear settling over his heart as he held me close.

His ribs were healed now. Fully. He was back on full firefighting duty, moving like himself again.

He stroked my hair slowly, again and again, grounding both of us.

“If you keep that up,” I murmured, “I’m going to fall asleep.”

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “I want to ask you something.”

I shifted slightly. “Okay.”

“Did you give any more thought to what Zoe suggested?”

That woke me up instantly.

A week after the mission-takedown, Zoe and I had been talking—about life, about perspective, about how quickly everything could change. She blindsided me.

She’d offered to be our surrogate.

Not as a grand gesture. Not as a sacrifice.

As a choice.

She knew my problem. My eggs were viable. My uterus wasn’t.

Before she approached me, she’d already done the screenings. Passed everything with ease. She hadn’t asked permission—she’d simply offered, calmly and deliberately.

Of course I’d immediately said no.

She’d told me I wasn’t asking. She was offering.

I told her the whole idea was off the table, but that night I went home and told Zarek. He’d told me it was my decision. That our family could be just the two of us forever and he’d be happy. That any path I chose, he’d walk with me.

I’d asked if it would change how he saw Zoe.

He’d laughed. “In my mind, Zoe will always be Zoe.” I totally understood what he was saying.

Now, lying there with his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, I finally whispered the truth.

“I want to do it.”

His breath stilled.

Then he kissed my hair.

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said simply.

No pressure. No expectations.

Just us.

And for the first time in a very long time, the future didn’t only feel better, but just a little bit brighter, too.

Epilogue