CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Palisade
"You're thinking about moving in with him."
It wasn't a question. Mom sat across from me at the coffee shop, her tea cooling between her hands, her eyes knowing.
I set down my latte. "Holly told you."
"Holly mentioned you seemed happier. And that Easton's been around more." She smiled gently. "I filled in the rest. So, he asked you to move in?"
"We've been talking about it. The media attention has been intense, and his place has better security. It makes sense practically, but…" I trailed off, fiddling with my napkin.
"But?"
"But it's also more than practical. We'd be building a life together. The three of us. And that's terrifying."
Mom reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "Tell me what you're afraid of."
"Everything," I admitted. "What if I'm rushing into this? What if Casey gets even more attached, and then things don't work out? What if I'm not ready to depend on someone?"
"Are those fears about Easton, or about you?"
I met her eyes. "Both."
Mom nodded slowly. "When your father and I moved in together, my mother told me something I've never forgotten. She said a real partnership isn't about being ready. It's about choosing to build something together even when you're scared."
"But what if I make the wrong choice?"
"Palisade." Mom's voice was gentle but firm. "I've watched you these past few months. I've seen how Easton is with Casey. How he shows up for both of you. He's working on himself in therapy. And I've seen how happy you are when you stop overthinking long enough to just feel."
"I'm terrified of needing him too much."
"Because you've had to be so independent for so long." Mom squeezed my hand. "Sweetheart, asking for help isn't a weakness. Letting someone in isn't a weakness. You've been strong for Casey for six years. Maybe it's okay to let Easton be strong for both of you now."
I stared into my coffee, watching the foam dissolve. "What if he changes his mind? What if being a full-time dad is too hard?"
"What if it isn't?" Mom countered. "What if he's exactly who he appears to be, a man who wants to be present for his daughter and build a life with you? What if you let yourself be happy?"
"It feels too good to be true."
"I know." Mom's voice softened. "But honey, I've known Easton since he was sixteen. I've watched him grow from an angry teenager into a man who takes responsibility for his mistakes. He's not perfect, but he's trying. That matters."
"You really think this could work?"
"I think you won't know unless you try. And Palisade? Casey isn't the only one who deserves a partner in this life. You do too."
I felt tears prick my eyes. "What if I mess it up?"
"Then you'll figure it out together. That's what partners do." Mom smiled. "Your father and I have been married for thirty-eight years. You know how many times we've messed up? Countless. But we choose each other, anyway. Every day."
"When did you get so wise?"
"I've always been this wise. You just don't always listen." She took a sip of her tea. "Now, do you want to move in with him?"
I took a shaky breath. "Yes. I want to try."
"Then try. And know that your father and I are here. Whatever happens, we're here for both of you."
"What will Dad say?"
"Your father is thrilled someone's finally helping you carry the load. Though he'll probably want to have a conversation with Easton about expectations and respect." She smiled. "That's what fathers do."
I laughed despite my nerves. "Poor Easton."
"He'll survive. Your father coached him. This is just different coaching."
"Mom? Thank you. For not judging me. For supporting this."
"Oh, sweetheart." Mom's eyes grew bright.
"I've watched you struggle alone for too long.
If Easton makes you happy, if he's good to Casey, if he shows up when it matters, then I'm thrilled.
You deserve a partnership. You deserve joy.
And you definitely deserve someone who fixes your faucets without being asked. "
I smiled through my tears. "He did that."
"See? He's a keeper." Mom stood, gathering her purse. "Now, when you move, do you need help packing? Or are you going to overthink this for another week first?"
"I'll let you know."
"That's my girl." She kissed my forehead. "And Palisade? I'm proud of you. For choosing to be brave. For letting yourself be loved. That takes real courage."
I smiled, something warm blooming in my chest. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe choosing to try was its own kind of courage.
Thanksgiving
Moving in together had been the right decision.
What started as a shield during the media storm had developed into something permanent.
A choice we made together at the lookout that night.
We'd found our rhythm, Easton and me balancing Casey's needs, building trust through small decisions and important ones.
His condo felt like home now, not just his space that we were borrowing.
Easton hadn't formally asked me about marriage since Casey brought it up, but at the lookout, he'd promised me forever.
"This is just the beginning," he'd said, his body still tangled with mine under the stars.
"I'm not letting either of you go." That was enough for now.
I knew where we were heading, knew he wanted forever as much as I did.
When he was ready to make it official, he would. I could be patient.
Easton's legal team had moved swiftly after the press conference.
Cease-and-desist letters went out to the most aggressive outlets, and his security consultant worked with the clinic to establish better protocols.
The photographers who'd broken into the clinic faced trespassing charges.
But it was our decision to speak publicly, to present ourselves as a united family, that truly changed everything.
The captaincy situation had resolved itself, too, though not in the way any of us expected. Beck had held the position for exactly two weeks before the team voted to reinstate Easton.
And now, this was our first Thanksgiving as a family. My parents, Easton's mother, and sister.
The aroma of roasting turkey and my father's famous cornbread stuffing filled the condo as I adjusted the centerpiece on the dining table one last time.
I couldn't keep my fingers from fidgeting.
I'd moved the centerpiece three times. The forks… were they straight? I checked again.
"Mom, you moved the flowers again," Casey pointed out, her voice carrying that blend of exasperation and amusement only a six-year-old can master. She stood in the doorway in her burgundy Thanksgiving dress, hair neatly braided.
"I want everything to be perfect," I admitted, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle from the tablecloth.
Casey tilted her head, studying me with those perceptive blue eyes. "Grandma and Grandpa already love me. Grandma Margaret will love me, too! Why do you keep moving the flowers?"
I kneeled at her level, adjusting the collar of her dress. "You're right. I'm being silly."
The truth was more complicated than I could explain to Casey.
This wasn't just any Thanksgiving. It was the first holiday with everyone knowing the truth about her parentage.
The first gathering of the Honors and Henley families as one unit, connected by this bright-eyed child, who bounced with excitement at having her entire family together.
"Palisade, honey, where did you put the good gravy boat?" My mother's voice carried from the kitchen, followed by the familiar click of cabinets opening and closing.
"Third cabinet from the left, top shelf!" I called back, rising from Casey's level.
Through the kitchen doorway, I could see Easton and my father standing near the counter, their heads bent in conversation.
My father's hand rested on Easton's shoulder in that familiar coaching gesture, and whatever he was saying made Easton nod seriously.
The sight made my chest tight. These were two of the most important men in my life, connected now by more than hockey.
The doorbell rang, and Casey squealed. "That's Grandma Margaret and Aunt Holly!"
She raced to the door before I could stop her, flinging it open with the enthusiasm only a child can manage. Margaret Henley stood in the doorway, arms already open, and Casey launched herself forward.
"There's my beautiful granddaughter," Margaret said, catching her easily and pressing kisses to her cheeks. "Look at you in that dress! You're gorgeous!"
"You too, Grandma!" Casey pulled back to admire Margaret's burgundy cardigan. "We're matching!"
"We are!" Margaret's laugh was warm and genuine. "Great minds think alike."
Holly appeared behind her mother, carrying what looked like three different desserts. "Someone's excited," she said, grinning at Casey. "Did you help with dinner?"
"I made the cranberry sauce all by myself!" Casey announced proudly. "Well, Dad helped a little. But mostly me!"
I moved to greet them, accepting Margaret's warm hug. "Thank you for coming."
"Are you kidding?" Margaret pulled back, her eyes bright. "First Thanksgiving with my granddaughter? I wouldn't miss this for anything."
Holly hugged me next, whispering, "You okay? You look nervous."
"Terrified," I admitted quietly.
"Don't be. Mom's been talking about this for weeks. She's thrilled." Holly squeezed my hand. "Also, whatever you're cooking smells amazing."
Easton appeared, pulling his mother into a hug. "Hey, Mom."
"There's my boy." Margaret cupped his face, studying him with a mother's knowing eyes. "You look happy."
"I am." He glanced at me, something soft in his expression. "Really happy."
The next hour passed in a blur of cooking, setting tables, and the comfortable chaos of family gathering.
My mother and Margaret hit it off immediately, bonding over recipes and grandchildren.
My father and Easton naturally gravitated to sports talk, though I caught Dad's eye on Easton more than once as if measuring and assessing.