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For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t thinking about work, or stress, or the battles we’d fought.
I was just here.
With Christian.
With our daughter.
With family.
The weeks that followed were a blur of sleepless nights, early mornings, and a kind of love I never knew was possible.
Christian was by my side for all of it. Rocking our baby to sleep at night, pressing soft kisses to her forehead, whispering promises to protect her, to love her.
He had always been my strength, my protector—but now, watching him as a father, I realized he was so much more.
One afternoon, I was curled up in the nursery, rocking our daughter when Christian walked in, his expression unreadable.
I frowned. “What?”
He smirked, pulling something from behind his back and handing it to me.
An envelope.
I arched a brow but took it, carefully pulling out the thick, expensive cardstock inside.
And then I froze.
The logo. The address. The name.
My name.
I blinked, my heart racing. “Christian… what is this?”
He knelt beside me, his eyes filled with something warm, something sure. “It’s yours.”
I shook my head, staring down at the papers in disbelief. “A new restaurant?”
“In your name. Your vision. Your legacy.”
My lips parted, emotions crashing into me all at once. I had fought so hard to hold on to what I’d built. Had almost lost everything.
And yet here he was, giving me more than I’d ever dreamed.
Tears blurred my vision as I looked at him. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to do this.” He reached up, brushing his thumb along my cheek. “For you. For us. For everything we’ve built together.”
I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine.
I melted into the kiss, my heart overflowing.
I had spent so much of my life fighting—fighting for my dreams, my success, my place in the world.
But with Christian, I didn’t have to fight alone.
I had him.
I had our family.
And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid of the future.
I was ready for it.
THE END