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I reached out, adjusting the cap slightly, careful not to disturb my son’s peaceful little expression. “Well, if nothing else, at least he’ll have pictures to prove he was the most distinguished newborn in history.”

The camera snapped again, capturing every bit of love, laughter, and the sheer absurdity of the moment.

Alexander glanced down at me, his voice softer now. “This—this is what I never knew I wanted.”

I turned to him, searching his face. There was no hesitation, no doubt. Just quiet certainty.

And love.

I squeezed his hand, leaning into the warmth of the family around us.

“We did this,” I murmured again, knowing, in every fiber of my being, that we had built something unbreakable.

And I would never take it for granted.

Not when I was finally free.

Not when my life was finally my own.

I chose myself when the world told me to settle. I set boundaries when Jen expected me to carry the weight of everything alone. I walked away from what hurt and built something better—something I deserved.

And the man who once seemed like the beginning and end of every weakness in me, the man I thought would never see me, never truly know me, was here, part of it all.

Alexander.

Alexander was mine now. And when he shifted closer, the heat of him warm against my side, he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder and let his hand settle against my stomach, his touch lingering just long enough to make my pulse catch, just long enough to take my breath away and remind me that my heart could fly.

I just smiled. Because maybe, just maybe—

Our family wasn’t done growing yet.

Because I was late.

Again.