Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Summer
The morning air was crisp, sunlight spilling through the windows of the house in a way that made everything feel too perfect.
It had been only a couple of days since Malcolm had surprised Jake and me with this home, and yet, it already felt like ours.
The walls weren’t just walls—they were filled with laughter, with warmth, with a sense of belonging I hadn’t realized I had been missing. Everything felt real now. Permanent.
I stood in the kitchen, sipping my coffee, watching as Malcolm and Jake sat at the dining table, both deeply focused on the puzzle they had started last night. Jake, brows furrowed in concentration, was clearly trying to beat Malcolm to the final piece.
“You’re going down, old man,” Jake muttered, his little hands snatching a puzzle piece before Malcolm could reach for it.
Malcolm raised an eyebrow, sipping his own coffee. “Old man?”
Jake grinned mischievously, placing his piece triumphantly. “Yeah. You’ve got, like, a million years on me.”
Malcolm smirked. “If I’m that old, then what does that make your mom?”
Jake snorted. “Timeless.”
I burst out laughing, setting my mug down. “Smart kid.”
Malcolm rolled his eyes but looked too damn smug about it. “Yeah, yeah. Take your victory while you can, because next time, I’m winning.”
Jake stuck his tongue out, but before he could fire back, the sound of a car door slamming shut outside made me pause.
I frowned, glancing toward the window. “Did we invite anyone over?”
Malcolm’s smirk deepened. “I didn’t. But I have a feeling I know exactly who’s here.”
Before I could even question him, the front door swung open, and in stormed Olivia—wearing the biggest grin I’d ever seen.
“Well, well, well,” she said dramatically, tossing her purse onto the couch like she owned the place. “Look at you two. Playing house. How’s married life without the paperwork?”
I groaned, already regretting my life choices. “Olivia?—”
“We are not married,” Malcolm and I said at the same time, though his response sounded much more amused than mine.
Olivia eyed us both, arms crossed, unconvinced. Then she looked at Malcolm, who simply sipped his coffee with a slow smirk.
“Yet,” he added smoothly.
I choked on air while Olivia squealed in delight.
“Oh my God. I love this man,” Olivia declared, spinning around dramatically. “Summer, marry him immediately.”
Jake, completely entertained by the scene, nodded. “Yeah, Mom. Marry him.”
I glared at the both of them. “You’re all traitors.”
Before Olivia could add any more fuel to the fire, another presence entered the house—one far more dangerous.
My mother.
Miriam stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a sigh that could mean only one thing: I was about to get scolded.
“I cannot believe,” she started, placing her hands on her hips, “that I had to find out about the adoption, the house, and whatever this is—” she gestured wildly at Malcolm and me “—from Olivia of all people.”
I groaned. “Mom?—”
“No,” she said firmly, striding toward me, ignoring Malcolm entirely. “You moved in together. You’ve started a family. And you didn’t even call me.”
I winced. “I… got busy?”
Miriam narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. “Too busy to pick up a phone?”
Olivia, ever the instigator, whispered loudly, “She was very busy.”
I elbowed her.
Malcolm, clearly enjoying the show, finally spoke up. “Miriam, in her defense, I did surprise her with the house.”
Miriam finally turned to face him, arms still crossed.
“You,” she said pointedly. “You didn’t even properly ask for my blessing.”
Malcolm blinked. Then, to my absolute horror, he grinned.
“Miriam, I’ve loved your daughter since I was sixteen,” he said smoothly, stepping closer. “If you’d said no, I still wouldn’t have let her go.”
Olivia let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her chest.
“Ugh, the way he talks,” she sighed. “Summer, marry this man already.”
I wanted to die.
Miriam narrowed her eyes, sizing Malcolm up, before sighing dramatically. “I suppose if I had to choose someone for my daughter, I could do worse.”
I exhaled. “Gee, thanks, Mom.”
Miriam smirked. “You’re welcome.” Then, in an infuriatingly casual tone, she added, “You know… I was the one who told you about Malcolm’s past back then.”
I blinked. “What?”
Miriam nodded. “You remember? You kept talking about the ‘sad, broody boy’ at the foster home, and I told you his story. I was one of the reasons you two got close.”
My mouth fell open. “Wait. What?”
Miriam smirked. “You should be thanking me, young lady.”
I gawked at her. “Mom, you emotionally manipulated me into liking him?”
Miriam grinned. “I prefer the term ‘gentle nudging.’”
Malcolm, laughing under his breath, nudged me. “Guess it was destiny after all.”
I groaned, rubbing my face. “Oh my God.”
Miriam patted my shoulder. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
I stared at her. “I don’t know if I should hug you or report you.”
Olivia sighed dramatically beside us. “Ugh, this is so cute. I’m actually emotional.”
“You’re always emotional,” I muttered.
Jake, watching all of this unfold like the most entertained child in the world, finally spoke up. “Can we eat now?”
Miriam laughed, ruffling his hair. “Of course, sweet boy.”
Malcolm smirked, grabbing a plate for her. “Miriam, you’ll be happy to know that I make a fantastic French toast.”
Miriam raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”
As everyone settled in—Miriam lecturing Malcolm, Olivia teasing me, Jake grinning at all of it—I sat back for a moment, watching.
This was family.
Messy, loud, overwhelming, absolutely ridiculous—and completely, undeniably mine.