RUE
Fifteen years later
The late afternoon sun warms the sprawling deck of our estate—Reed's design, Roman's build, my heart poured into every room—and I watch our chaos unfold with a hand pressed to my rounded belly. Twins this time. Again.
"Mom!" Tracy tugs my oversized linen shirt. "Jay took my towel!"
"Did not!" Jay yells from the pool, where Sunny's already cannon-balling with zero regard for anyone nearby.
"Give it back," I call, not even looking. At this point, I could referee their fights in my sleep.
Jasmine lounges on a chair nearby, twenty years old and home from college, her dark curls—my curls—pinned up in a messy knot. She's got Reed's steel-gray eyes, and half the boys on campus trailing after her like lost puppies. She doesn't notice. Too busy reading.
Patty and Jessica are setting up the buffet table, bickering good-naturedly about condiment placement while Carl and Sam toss a football with the kind of reckless energy that makes my heart clench. They're growing too fast. All of them.
"Rue." Reed's voice rumbles behind me, his hand sliding to the small of my back. "Sit. You've been on your feet all morning."
"I'm fine."
"Little girl." His tone drops, and I feel the weight of it settle into my bones. Not a command. A reminder. He still knows exactly how to ground me.
I sit.
Roman appears a moment later with a plate already loaded—grilled chicken, pasta salad, fruit—and sets it in front of me without a word. His dark eyes flick to my belly, then back to my face, and the corner of his mouth lifts.
"Eat."
"Bossy," I mutter, but I pick up the fork.
Kurt arrives just as the Jay and Tracy start another squabble. He's thirty-three now, fit and healthy, with the kind of quiet confidence that comes from surviving what should've killed him. The scar from his transplant peeks out when he moves.
Now he's got his arm around a woman—Emma, a pediatric nurse with warm brown eyes and an easy smile—and I feel my throat tighten.
"Everyone," Kurt calls, grinning. "This is Emma."
The kids swarm them immediately. Emma laughs, crouching down to meet Sunny's enthusiastic hug, and Kurt catches my eye over the chaos. Mouths thank you.
I shake my head. He doesn't owe me anything. Not anymore.
Reed and Roman drift toward the grill, their voices low as they flip burgers and talk. I catch fragments—something about Jasmine's eyes, Carl's build, Jessica's stubborn streak—and I know exactly what they're doing.
"You two," I call, pushing to my feet. "Stop."
They turn, identical smirks on their too-handsome faces.
"What?" Roman's all innocence.
"You know what." I cross my arms, though the effect is somewhat ruined by my belly. "It doesn't matter whose DNA is whose. You're both their fathers. Period."
Reed steps closer, his hand cupping my neck in that grounding way of his. "We know."
"Do you?"
"Yeah." Roman's beside me now, his palm sliding over my stomach. "We do."
I have my suspicions. Of course I do. Jasmine's got Reed's intensity. Carl's got Roman's hands. But I've never said it out loud, and I never will.
Because it doesn't matter.
They saved me. Saved Kurt. Built this life from the wreckage of my parents' cruelty, from my desperation and fear.
And now?—
"Mom!" Sunny shrieks. "Jay's doing it again!"
I sigh.
Now we're here.
Thanks for reading!