EPILOGUE
It's Harper's first birthday, and I wake up feeling like my heart might burst.
Ten months. Three hundred and some days since a baby showed up on my doorstep and changed my entire life. Since Nora walked through my door, and became everything I didn't know I was missing.
The weather is perfect. The backyard is decorated with pink balloons, streamers, a banner that says HARPER IS ONE, strung between two trees, tables set up with food, cake, and everything Nora has been organizing for weeks.
Nora's been running on four hours of sleep for three days, and she looks radiant, which is either love or insanity and probably both.
Harper is toddling around the backyard in her birthday dress, pink with ONE embroidered on the chest, investigating every pumpkin and balloon with the serious curiosity that is distinctly her own.
"Everything looks perfect, Red."
"The banner's crooked."
"It's fine."
"And I forgot to get extra ice—"
I pull her into my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Everything is perfect. Harper's happy. We're happy. That's all that matters."
She relaxes against me for a moment before Harper makes a beeline for the cake table, and we both lunge to stop her.
"Not yet, baby girl," I say, scooping her up. "Guests first, cake later."
Emma and Chase arrive with their kids, Ethan running straight for the bounce house we rented, Sofia toddling after him. Diane comes with them, immediately pulling Harper into her arms and getting teary-eyed.
"One year old," she says. "I can't believe it."
"Me neither."
Maya and Jackson arrive next, driving up from Hartford. Liam and Michelle with their kids, Danny with his girlfriend, Carter and Williams from the team, people I've gotten close to this season, who showed up for the trial, who celebrated the verdict.
By two-thirty, the backyard is full of people who have become family over the past year. People who supported us through everything, who watched Harper grow from a scared infant to the confident one-year-old currently charming everyone within reach.
I carry Harper around, showing her off, unable to stop grinning. She's wearing her birthday dress and a small crown that keeps sliding sideways, and she's absolutely loving all the attention.
"She's gotten so big," Maya says, taking Harper for a cuddle. "I remember when she was tiny, and you had no idea what you were doing."
"I still have no idea what I'm doing," I say. "I'm just better at faking it."
"That's parenting," Emma says. "Welcome to the club."
Nora slides her arm around my waist. I pull her in, press a kiss to her temple, and feel Emma watching us with that particular expression of someone who's been waiting for something to come together and is deeply satisfied.
"Stop looking at us like that," I tell her.
"I'm not looking at you like anything. I'm looking at my niece."
"Harper's behind me."
"Then I'm looking at your back. It's a very nice back."
Nora is laughing against my shoulder. I love the sound of it.
The smash cake is a hit.
Harper looks at it suspiciously for a moment. Pokes one finger into the frosting, examines the result, and puts it in her mouth. Her face transforms.
Then she goes absolutely to town on it.
Both hands in the cake, frosting everywhere, in her hair, all over her face, covering the birthday dress. She's laughing, delighted with herself, and everyone around her is laughing with her, phones out, capturing every second.
"This is the best thing I've ever seen," Emma says.
Nora wipes a bit of frosting off her own cheek from where Harper splattered. "The bath tonight is going to be interesting."
"Worth it," I say.
And I mean it about more than the bath.
Presents at four-forty-seven. Harper is more interested in the wrapping paper than anything inside.
She climbs into a large box that holds a play kitchen from Emma and Chase and refuses to come out, and we let her, because it's her birthday and she's one, and if she wants to live in a box for twenty minutes, that's completely reasonable.
The photographer Emma hired as her gift has been capturing everything. Around five, she suggests family photos.
"With the jerseys," Emma insists. "You have to do the matching jerseys."
I catch Nora's eye.
She knows. I've been carrying the ring for two weeks. Emma knows because I called her and asked for the specific blessing that I knew I needed. Not permission, just a blessing. Her confirmation that she sees who I've become and thinks I'm allowed to have this.
She cried, said yes, and then made me promise to do it somewhere Harper could be there, and now here we are.
We go inside to change into the matching jerseys with WEST 17 on the back, in three sizes. Nora pulls hers on and looks in the hallway mirror, and shakes her head.
"I can't believe I'm wearing your jersey."
"You've been wearing my hoodie for months. A jersey is a natural progression."
"Your hoodie is comfortable. This is a statement."
"Yeah," I say. "It is."
The photographer positions us in front of the house with the backyard behind us. Me holding Harper, Nora beside me, all three of us in WEST 17. The photos take a while. Harper keeps trying to escape, Ethan photobombs twice, and Sofia wants to be in every single one.
But there's a moment, between the chaos, where it's just the three of us. The photographer says something quiet, and we both look at the camera at the same time, and whatever she captures in that moment is, I think, exactly what we are.
Real.
After the photos, while Harper is being passed around for goodbye cuddles, I post my favorite shot to Instagram for the first time, making it public, making it official. The three of us in matching jerseys grinning in the afternoon light.
My girls. My everything. Happy first birthday, Harper Rose. These ten months changed my life in every way that matters.
By eight-thirty, people start heading out. Emma, Chase, Diane, Maya, and Jackson are all staying at the same nearby hotel. Danny’s heading back to the city. Liam and Michelle to their place across town.
"Thank you for coming," I tell Emma, hugging her. "For all of it. Every single month of it."
"Of course. We're family." She pulls back, looks between Nora and me. "You both did well. Really well."
After everyone leaves, it's just us.
Harper, exhausted from the best day of her life, goes down without a fight. We do her bedtime routine together, the way we always do: bath with frosting in her hair, pajamas, bottle, and one short story. She's asleep before we finish it.
I stand in the nursery doorway for a long moment, looking at her.
One year old.
Ten months since she showed up on my doorstep and detonated everything.
"Come on," Nora says quietly, taking my hand. "Let's clean up."
We head downstairs, and the backyard is a disaster of decorations, wrapping paper, and half-eaten cake. But instead of starting to clean, I take Nora's hand and lead her to the middle of the yard, where we can see the stars coming out overhead.
She looks up at them, then at me.
"Tyler."
"Just let me say something. Please."
She goes quiet. Watching me.
"You remember the day we met?"
"I remember."
"I was a wreck. I hadn't slept, there was spit-up on my shirt, and I was holding a baby I didn't know how to hold." I take a breath. "And you walked in, looked at me, and said, 'Let me help.' Like it was simple. Like it was the easiest thing in the world."
"It was the easiest thing in the world."
"Yeah, well. Not for me. Nothing had been easy in a long time. And then there you were."
She's smiling. There are tears in her eyes already. Mine are starting too. I'm not going to do this dry, apparently.
"I had a whole speech," I say. "Wrote it down. Edited it. Read it to myself in the car a few times so I wouldn't fuck it up."
"Where is it?"
"In my pocket. But I'm not going to use it. It was too neat. You're not a neat thing in my life, Red. You're the messy thing that made everything else make sense."
"Tyler—"
"Hold on."
I reach into my pocket. Pull out the box.
Her hand goes to her mouth.
"I'm not gonna be a guy who can do this fancy.
I'm a guy who's been in love with you since you slapped my team captain in front of an entire roster.
Since you started color-coding things that didn't need to be color-coded.
Since you walked into my kitchen the night Jessica showed up and stood between her and our daughter without thinking about it. "
I drop to one knee on the grass.
"You said something in court. You said family is who shows up, who stays.
You showed up the morning you walked in my door, and you have not stopped showing up once.
Not when it got hard. Not when it got scary.
Not when a lawyer told you to step back, you let me argue with her without leaving the room, and then you came home and told me what was going on inside you instead of just doing the leaving thing your way. "
She's crying. So am I.
"I want to spend the rest of my life showing up for you the same way you've shown up for us. That's the whole speech, Red. I had more, but it was just dressing on this. Will you marry me?"
"Yes."
She doesn't even wait for me to finish opening the box. She's already saying it, already reaching for me.
"Yes, Tyler. Yes."
I slide the ring onto her finger with hands that are shaking, and then I'm standing and pulling her in and kissing her while she cries and laughs at the same time.
"I love you," she says against my mouth. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." I press my forehead to hers. "You and Harper. The whole thing."
"We saved each other."
"Yeah. We did."
We stand here in our backyard under the stars, holding each other.
"When?" she asks eventually, looking at her ring in the starlight.
"Whenever you want. However, you want. But Red, I'm not waiting long. We've waited long enough for the easy parts."
"Soon then," she decides. "We get the new house first, and then soon."
"New house. Then soon. Then forever." I tip my forehead against hers. "Everything we planned."
"Everything we planned," she agrees.
We finally start cleaning up, but we keep stopping to kiss, to look at her ring, to stand still for a moment and let it be real.
By the time we collapse into bed hours later, exhausted and happy and engaged, I lie here thinking about how a year ago I was convinced my life was over.
Now I know it was just the beginning.
Harper taught me how to be a father.
Nora taught me how to be loved.
And I get to spend the rest of my life being both.