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We all dive into the delicious spread before us, and the conversation flows easily, peppered with laughter and playful teasing.
“Harper, you have to try the grilled veggies,” I recommend, passing her the platter. “My mom makes them better than anyone I know.”
“Thank you, Benedict,” she responds with a grin, accepting the dish. “I’m sure they’re incredible. Everything is truly delicious, Aimee.” She smiles warmly at my mother. “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness and hospitality.”
“It was my pleasure, dear,” Mom replies, reaching over to pat Harper’s hand. “You’re family now, and that’s what family does.”
My heart swells with pride and happiness, and as I steal a glance at Harper, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment, I know in my heart that this is where we’re meant to be.
As we continue to eat and chat, I can’t help but marvel at how seamlessly Harper has fit into our little group. The laughter and warm conversation fill the room, and I feel a wave of contentment wash over me. I watch as Harper leans in to listen to Antonio’s story, her eyes lighting up with genuine interest. Hudson chimes in with his own anecdote, and she turns to him, giving him her full attention.
Harper throws her head back and giggles at Antonio’s outrageous tales of his latest adventures, Hudson smirks as he chimes in with his own anecdotes, and my mother’s infectious laughter fills the room.
“Okay, okay,” Hudson gasps between chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes. “You’ve got to hear this one—it was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Please, don’t encourage him,” I say playfully, rolling my eyes at Harper, who grins back at me.
“Go on, Hudson,” she urges. “I’m dying to know what happened now.”
“Alright,” Hudson begins, leaning forward and lowering his voice for dramatic effect. “So, there we were, camping out in the wilds of Patagonia, when suddenly?—”
“Wait,” Antonio interrupts, feigning innocence. “What were you doing in Patagonia again?”
“Antonio, don’t derail the story!” Hudson protests, but his laughter betrays his annoyance. We all laugh along, enjoying the playful banter between them.
“Fine, fine,” Antonio relents, waving his hand dismissively. “Carry on.”
My gaze lingers on Harper’s face, taking in the way her eyes light up as she listens to the stories, the curve of her lips as she smiles, and the faint blush on her cheeks from laughing so hard. At this moment, I am struck by the realization that I want nothing more than to be an integral part of her life—to protect and support her, to share in this happiness, and to cherish every moment we have together.
45
HARPER
We walk into the penthouse, and I sigh, looking over all of the Christmas decorations.
“Harper, how are you feeling?” Benedict’s voice is a soothing balm to my frayed nerves, his eyes filled with genuine concern. “Still okay?” After we left Aimee’s, all of the boys have been staring at me constantly as if something drastic would change between then and now.
“I’m fine, I promise,” I laugh. “If something changes, I’ll let you know.”
“You look lost in thought.”
Lowering my voice, I share my concerns. “I just…I didn’t have time to get all their presents. I feel like I’m letting them down.”
Benedict laughs. “Harper, don’t worry about the presents. Trust me,” he says with a reassuring smile.
I glance up at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. The way he looks back at me, warm and steadfast, I know he truly means it. But how can I not worry? The kids have been so excited for Christmas this year, and I don’t want to let them down. “But…”
“Come on,” he urges, stopping me before I can really get out my words, taking my hand and leading me toward the living room. I let him guide me, curiosity growing as we cross the threshold.
My gaze immediately falls upon the Christmas tree, and my breath catches in my throat. There, under the twinkling lights, is an abundance of beautifully wrapped gifts, each adorned with a tag bearing my children’s names. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by the sight before me.
“Wha…how?” I stammer, unable to comprehend the scene.
Benedict chuckles softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “We took care of it,” he admits, a hint of pride in his voice. “Aftereverything, we couldn’t just sit idly by. We wanted to make sure your kids have a memorable Christmas.”
“Guilty as charged,” Antonio chimes in from behind us, his arms crossed over his chest and a playful grin on his face.
Hudson comes in after us, a kid in each of his arms, both focused on whatever show he has playing on his phone, their backs turned to the tree. “Think they’ll like it?” His voice is a whisper.
