Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Knox
In the last eight months, the warehouse has transformed from a sterile living space into a home that bursts at the seams with life.
The main room is loud tonight, filled with the overlapping voices of our pack and the laughter of children. I stand near the kitchen island, watching the scene unfold with a sense of contentment that settles deep in my bones.
Maisie is running circles around the coffee table, fueled by sugar and excitement. She’s wearing a plastic crown and a superhero cape, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.
Norah is on the sofa, baby Rosie asleep on her chest. Wren, Beau, and Simon are nearby, cooing over Nell.
Stella flew in from London a few days ago. She’s currently at the island, stealing a deviled egg from a platter and arguing with Eli about the superiority of British chocolate.
“He’s wrong,” Eli says to Stella, holding a mug of tea and looking entirely too comfortable. “Swiss chocolate is superior. It’s creamier. And less waxy.”
Stella scoffs. “Boring. British chocolate has history. It has character.”
“Character is a nice word for ‘gritty,’” Eli counters, grinning.
My eyes track back to the center of the room.
Amber.
She’s sitting in a large armchair I brought home specifically for her. She is magnificent. Her pregnancy has taken over her body, swelling her breasts and belly until she is round and soft and glowing.
She wears a loose, flowing dress that accents the mound of her stomach. Her skin looks luminous, flushed with health and life.
She looks up, catching my gaze. She smiles, and the sight of it hits me like a physical blow to the chest.
I used to think I knew what happiness was. I was wrong.
“Okay, everyone!” Jude claps his hands. “Cake time!”
Riley, one of the owners of Lorelai’s Bakery, wheels in a cart. On it sits the most absurd cake I have ever seen. It’s three tiers, covered in intricate frosting that looks like a bouquet of wildflowers.
Amber laughs, covering her mouth with her hands. “You guys... this is too much.”
“Nothing is too much for you,” Fallon says, coming up behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his hands on her belly. He kisses her temple, loud and exaggerated, making her giggle. “Happy baby shower, Sunshine.”
“Happy baby shower,” Eli and I echo.
We crowd around the table. The lights dim. Amber closes her eyes for a moment, placing a hand on her belly. Then she blows.
Everyone cheers. Maisie cheers the loudest.
We slice into the cake. It’s incredible—light, floral, not too sweet. We eat standing up, leaning on counters, spilling out onto the patio to talk.
An hour later, the sugar rush settles into a comfortable buzz. The group disperses.
Maisie has conked out on the beanbag chair with Rosie, “reading” to her quietly. Jude, Ryker, and Dorian are debating BBQ smokers near the window. Wren and Norah are cooing over the baby again.
I find Amber on the balcony. She’s leaning against the railing, her hand rubbing slow circles on her back.
“Hey,” I say, stepping up beside her. “You okay? You look tired.”
“Just big,” she says, leaning her head on my shoulder. “And hungry. Again.”
“I can get you something.”
“No. I’m fine.” She links her arm through mine. “I’m just happy. I look around and I can’t believe it’s real.”
“It’s real,” I say, pressing a kiss to her hair.
“I know.” She turns to face me. “I have something for you.”
“Me?”
“All of you.” She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a small, velvet box.
I take it, frowning slightly. “What is this?”
“Just open it.”
I lift the lid. Inside, resting on a bed of cotton, are three tiny plastic four-leafed clovers.
“What am I looking at?”
“They’re considered good luck charms. You can all attach them to your key rings. I know this is cheesy, but I think the four leaves represent the four of us. Our pack.”
My throat tightens. “Amber...”
“I had them made,” she says, her voice trembling. “I want to have more babies with you. Whenever they come.”
“T’es...” I have to stop and clear my throat. “You’re too good to us.”
“I love you,” she says, simply.
“J’t’aime aussi,” I whisper. “I love you too.”
We stand there for a long time, just holding each other while the party winds down inside. The noise of Jude laughing and Stella’s animated voice floats out to us, wrapping us in a blanket of normalcy I never thought I would have.
“Ready to go back in?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She sighs, rubbing her belly. “My feet are swelling.”
I scoop her up into my arms. She squeaks, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I can walk, Knox!”
“I know. But let me carry you.” I nuzzle her neck. “It’s good practice for later.”
She laughs, resting her head on my shoulder.
I carry her back inside. The room feels warmer now. Fuller.
I set her down gently on the sofa. Fallon immediately claims her feet, pulling them into his lap to massage them. Eli sits beside her, handing her a glass of water.
“You’re glowing, Amber,” Eli says softly, brushing her hair back.
“Just sweating,” she mutters.
“No,” he insists. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
Fallon leans down to kiss her ankle. “He’s right. You’re a goddess.”
“Stop it.” She laughs, pushing at Fallon’s head with her foot. “You guys are biased.”
“Maybe,” I say, sitting on the floor near her head. “But we’re also right.”
Eli looks at me, then at Fallon. A silent communication passes between us. We’re ready. The nursery’s done. The bags are packed. We’re waiting for her to decide she’s ready.
“Knox?” she asks quietly.
“Oui?”
“I’m scared.”
I reach up and take her hand. “Of what?”
“Of everything. Of doing this right. Of... Luke finding a way to ruin this.” Even though he’s locked away, the fear is still there.
I squeeze her fingers. “He can’t touch us, chérie. Not here. Not ever again. We are too many. And we are too happy.”
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah. We are.”
“Besides,” Fallon adds, grinning up at her, “you have three of us. Even if he did get out, he’d have to get through us first.”
“True,” Eli agrees. “And he’d have to get through Dorian and Ryker and Jude.”
“And Stella,” I add. “She’s terrifying.”
Amber laughs, a bright, happy sound. “Okay. Okay. I feel better.”
I kiss her knuckles. “Good.”
We sit there while the sun goes down, surrounded by our family. The future is sleeping in her womb, and the past is finally dead where it belongs—in a cage.
We’re free.