38. Katy
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
katy
TOGETHER THROUGH EVERY STORM
Ben took me out to dinner tonight, just the two of us. I even did my hair and wore a dress. Which is saying something because I’ve been living in leggings lately.
The restaurant is warm and softly lit, the kind of place where everything feels a little quieter, a little slower. There’s a fireplace crackling along the far wall, low and steady, the glow flickering across the room.
It feels strange being without the baby. Like we forgot something important and also… like I can breathe a little deeper because of it.
Grandma Patty practically kicked us out of our apartment, promising she had everything under control. I know she does. But my mommy hormones are not 100% convinced.
Ben pulls me out of my own head. “I talked to my parents.”
I look up from my glass. “About what?”
“About the baby,” he says simply. “And the draft.”
My stomach tightens. I’ve been thinking about the draft every day. I want Ben to have everything he’s ever dreamed of, but I’m terrified of how everything will change.
“They’re ready to move wherever we land. They want to be there to help out.”
I blink. “They’d really do that? They just moved to Rose Bay.”
“Without hesitation.”
The fire crackles softly behind him, filling the small space between us.
Something in my chest shifts, relief and disbelief at the same time. I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “That’s… insane. Making them move twice.”
“They don’t care. They’d move a hundred times,” he says, like it’s obvious.
Of course it is. Ben’s parents are amazing. Growing up, I always wanted the kind of parent Ella had. And now I do. They treat me like I’m their daughter, and it’s been an unexpected gift. To finally have that.
I look down at the table, tracing the edge of my napkin, trying to catch up to everything that might change.
“Grandma Patty already told me she’s planning to split her time wherever we are,” he adds, a little lighter now. “And Ella is very clingy, so she’ll probably visit a lot too. So you’d basically still be stuck with all of them.”
That makes me smile. “Lucky me.” Truly. I am so lucky.
His hand finds mine across the table, warm and steady, his thumb brushing slow over my skin like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
The warmth spreads, grounding.
“And about school,” he continues, more carefully this time. “If you want that, we’ll make it happen wherever we go. You can transfer credits. Whatever we have to do, we’ll do.”
I don’t answer right away. My fingers trace along his wrist instead, slow and absent, like I’m trying to follow a thought to the end. His thumb keeps moving against my hand, steady and grounding, like he’s anchoring me without saying it out loud.
“Is it wrong if I don’t want to?” I ask quietly.
He doesn’t react. Doesn’t interrupt. He just waits for me.
I swallow. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I know it matters. I know it’s the smart thing to do. It’s what I’m supposed to do.” I glance up at him, then back down again. “But I’ve already found my voice.”
The words feel bigger out loud.
“I love writing,” I continue. “I want to write my books at home. And I don’t want to be like my parents.
I want to be there every day. I want to pick up our kid from school.
Maybe teach kiddie cheerleading in the afternoons just because it makes me happy.
I don’t want to trade all that just to check a box. ”
I finally look at him, bracing myself. “Is that so wrong?”
He turns fully toward me, no hesitation. “No,” he says. “It’s not wrong.”
The relief hits me fast, almost overwhelming, but I keep going anyway.
“Right now, going back for a degree just feels like... time. Time away from the thing I already know I love.” I shake my head slightly. “And now that I’ve proven I can write, I don’t want to walk away from that.”
He watches me as I speak, really watches me. And the more I say, the steadier I feel.
“You don’t have to justify it.”
“I know,” I agree. “I just needed to hear myself say it out loud.”
He nods once. “You’re already doing what you love. You don’t need a certificate from anyone to keep doing it.”
I lean into him a little, exhaling, the warmth of the room settling into my bones. “So, you’re really okay with that?”
His hand tightens around mine, his thumb still tracing slow, like he’s not letting me drift too far.
“Katy, I’m proud of you for knowing what you want,” he says. “You don’t need anyone’s permission to choose that. Not mine. Not your parents’. Not anyone else’s.”
I smile.
“And if someday you wake up and want to go back to school, we’ll figure that out too. But I don’t need you to be anything other than happy.”
“You make everything sound so simple.”
“Because it is,” he says.
I huff a quiet laugh. “It’s really not.”
He smiles, steady.
“You and Ben are my home.” His voice is quiet but certain. “Wherever we end up, or whatever our new goals are, we’ll make it work.”
Something in my chest settles. I smile then. A real one.
“Okay,” I breathe.
Ben leans in and presses a kiss to my temple, his hand still wrapped around mine, his thumb finally stilling like everything else just fell into place.
Now the future doesn’t feel like it’s predetermined. Like it has to be a certain way.
It feels like something we’re building to our liking.
As a family.
BEN
Declan is sitting in the kitchen counter when I find him. Grandma Patty’s house is mostly quiet. I stand there for a second longer than I need to.
“I need to talk to you.”
Declan looks up once, already reading something in my face. He sets the mug down.
“Okay.”
I don’t sit. “I’m going to ask Katy to marry me. This weekend.”
Declan studies me. “Bit late to ask for permission, don’t you think?”
I let out a short breath, something between a laugh and a wince. “Yeah. I figured that might come up.”
There’s a pause.
I glance toward the hallway. “Is Grandma Patty home?”
“Yeah, I’ll go get her,” Declan says as he stands.
“No need, I’m already here,” her voice calls back from the hallway. She appears a second later, her eyes sharp like she’s been waiting for something interesting to happen all night.
“What are we discussing?”
“I’m going to ask Katy to marry me.”
She stills. “Oh,” she says softly. “Well. It’s about time.”
Declan huffs.
Grandma Patty’s gaze flicks between us, taking it in, measuring it.
“And?” she asks, gesturing me to continue.
“I love her,” I say. “And I love our son. They’ll always come first, and football will always come second.”
Declan straightens slightly. Grandma Patty’s expression softens, but not completely.
Declan exhales, slow. “And just so we’re clear,” he says, calm, steady, “if you ever hurt her again—”
“I won’t,” I say.
He doesn’t react to that.
“Not even Ella will be able to save you.”
He doesn’t raise his voice. He’s simply telling me a fact.
“I understand.”
Grandma Patty clicks her tongue. “Please. If he hurts her, I’ll get to him first.”
Declan nods once. “Fair. I can see that.”
I huff a quiet laugh, some of the tension easing.
Grandma Patty steps closer, studying me now. “You really love her, don’t you?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She nods slowly, satisfied. “Good. Because that girl loves you in a way that’s going to ruin her if you don’t take care of it properly.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “I just want to keep deserving it.”
Declan’s mouth quirks. “She’s already yours, even if you don’t deserve it,” he teases.
I shake my head slightly. “No. I don’t. But I want to keep trying to.”
That earns me a look of approval from both of them.
Declan steps forward and claps a hand on my shoulder. Firm. Final. “Alright. I’m happy for you. Katy will be thrilled,” he says.
“That’s what Ella said.”
He snorts. “She’s been saying it for months.”
As I turn toward the door, Declan calls after me—
“Go propose to your girl before someone ruins it.”
A beat.
“Ella is terrible at keeping secrets.”
I laugh under my breath as I head out.
My life feels steady for once.
KATY
I hover in the doorway longer than necessary.
Mini-Ben is already tucked into Grandma Patty’s arms, perfectly content, one tiny fist clutching her sweater like he’s claiming her as his own.
“You can go,” Grandma Patty says calmly. “He’s fed. He’s dry. He likes me.”
“I know, I just—”
Caroline appears from the kitchen, coffee in hand. “Katy. Please. We’ve got this.” She adjusts his little hat. “You deserve a weekend. Both of you.”
I glance at Ben. He looks certain. Like this isn’t reckless, like it’s right.
Ella pops her head out from the hallway. “Danny and I are also here. Backup support.”
Grandma Patty snorts. “That’s three adults and a dog for one tiny baby. We’ll all survive.”
Ella grins. “Barely. Now go.”
I lean down and press a kiss to my son’s cheek. He smells like baby soap and warmth and everything that feels like home.
“You’ll be okay?” I whisper.
He smiles, and I guess that’s enough for me.
Ben takes my hand in his, steadying me, and for the first time since becoming a mom, I leave without guilt.
The town Ben takes me to is adorable and quiet in that intentional way, like it’s protecting its own peace.
Our inn sits right by the water, gray-blue stretching endlessly, the air crisp, the whole place tucked into the shoreline like a secret.
At first, the silence feels unfamiliar, but after a while it starts to feel like relief.
We walk without rushing. We eat slowly, the ocean stretched out in front of us, with no interruptions, no one needing anything. We laugh, we drink, we sleep uninterrupted and wake up almost confused by how good it feels.
Lunch lingers longer than it should. A second glass of wine turns into dessert. Because we have nowhere else to be. Nothing else to do. And it’s amazing.
Ben leans back in his chair, sunglasses low, his arm draped lazily over mine. “This is… really nice.”
“Yeah,” I say. “It is.”
I don’t miss the chaos. The bottles. The laundry. The constant pull of tiny hands reaching for me.
I sit with that, and then the guilt hits.
“I feel kind of terrible,” I admit.
Ben turns to me immediately. “Why?”