Page 230 of Becoming Us

Noah had wanted to adopt from day one. So even though they were three years apart, Jude and Elio came into our lives almost at the same time—Jude at four, Elio at not even a year old.

It was hard. But so, so worth it.

Jude had been easier—chatty, always attached to our hips. Elio came in like a wrecking ball, but in the very best way. He brought joy to all of us. A tiny partner-in-crime for Jude and a giggling snuggle bug for me.

And he gave Noah something I still couldn’t quite put into words.

A quiet understanding. A bond deeper than language. Like a piece of Noah’s soul had wandered off and finally come home, demanding every ounce of his heart.

Now, watching his messy brown hair tickle Noah’s chin, his tiny lips parted, his breath rising and falling in sync with his dad’s, I couldn’t help but feel grateful.

Grateful that everything—somehow—had come together.

I walked around to the side of the bed and sat near Noah’s hip, careful not to wake the kids as I set the coffee cups on the nightstand. My hand drifted through his tousled hair. His eyelids fluttered once, then opened slowly, those gorgeous green eyes landing on me. A soft smile on his lips.

“Morning, baby,” I whispered.

“Is it morning?” He stretched just enough not to jostle Elio.

I nodded. “It’s snowing.”

His face lit up. “Yay.”

I grinned, brushing his hair back again. “Coffee’s on the table. Want me to scoop him up so you can grab a quick shower?”

He shook his head and tightened his free arm around Elio. “Baby cuddles.”

“Okay then, I’ll jump in and start getting everything ready for breakfast.” I leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

I started to rise, but Noah caught me, his palm warm on the back of my neck.

“Hey,” he said with that perfect side smile.

“What?”

“Merry Christmas.” He tilted his chin up in invitation.

I kissed him—just a soft press of lips, but his warmth spread through me instantly.

“Merry Christmas.”

Then Jude—who had been completely out cold just moments ago—shot upright, sitting on the bed. Still bleary-eyed and half asleep, he threw his arms in the air and practically shouted, “Christmas!” before scrambling off the bed.

“Hey, buddy,” I said with a laugh.

“Dad! It’s Christmas!” he repeated joyfully.

“It sure is,” Noah said, glancing down as Elio began to stir, tiny fists rubbing at his eyes.

“Santa came! Presents!” Jude shouted, hopping in place. “Can I go? Can I go see the presents?”

“Yeah, bu—” was all I managed before he bolted toward the door. “Hey, wait up,” I called, but he was already gone.

“So much for showering,” Noah said with a grin.

Elio turned toward me, his lower lip already wobbling. I scooped him into my arms, stood, and began to rock him gently.He rested his cheek on my shoulder, thumb in his mouth, eyes already starting to flutter closed again.

“Jude!” I called, walking to the doorway.