Page 232 of Becoming Us

The door burst open, and we both jumped.

Jude came in with Ezra behind him. They froze, eyes scanning the room—Jude curious, Ezra wary.

“Turkey,” Noah finished lamely.

I bit my tongue to keep from making a face.

“Turkey?” Ezra echoed.

Noah shrugged. “What can I say? It’s an impressive turkey.” He didn’t even try to hide the amusement in his voice.

“Weird,” Jude said, opening the fridge.

“You’re the worst,” I muttered, kissing Noah’s cheek as he laughed. I turned to hand Jude a juice box while Noah slid off the counter.

“We’re building Legos, Dad. You wanna come?” Jude asked, grabbing Noah’s hand and tugging him toward the door.

“Legos? That’s so cool. Lead the way.” Noah grinned, but before he left, he shot me a look over his shoulder—saucy and smug—and threw in a wink.

I shook my head and pressed my lips together to stifle a laugh.

Ezra cracked open a beer beside me. “You two are unbelievable.”

Heat rushed up my neck. “Please tell me you didn’t actually hear that.”

“What? That Noah wanted to worship your turkey?” Ezra raised an eyebrow. The flush spread all the way to my fingertips. “Don’t worry, I don’t think you scarred the kid. I do wonder how you manage with two little ones, though, considering…”

Considering he’d lived with us for a year and witnessed our total inability to tone it down.

“We got creative.” That was enough. He didn’t need to know about the soundproof garage, the sex couch, or the locked cabinet next to it.

“I still can’t believe you two are dads,” he said, but the sarcasm was gone. His lips even curved into a small smile.

“It’s wild, right?”

He let out a soft huff of laughter. “Who would’ve thought?”

It really was incredible. That guy I’d seen at a party a million years ago—the one who’d left me speechless, broken my heart, and somehow glued it back together—was now my husband. The father of our kids. And the friend who’d once hated his guts? He’d been the best man at our wedding, had stood up and given a speech, even teared up in front of everyone. Now he was here, spending the holidays with us, just as much a part of my family as anyone else.

Life was wild.

That night, after our friends had left for the nearby cabin and my mom had gone to bed, so did we. Jude had a little bed set up nextto ours, but he always ended up sneaking in. Noah was reading him a bedtime story, while Elio, already curled against his side, slept soundly. It was a fairy tale, of all things, and Jude listened to every word like it mattered.

When Noah reached the end—“and they lived happily ever after”—Jude kept staring at the page, clearly deep in thought.

“What is it, kiddo?” Noah asked.

Jude looked up. “What happens after that?”

Noah’s brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

“They got married, and then it’s just…happily ever after. But what is that?”

Across the bed, Noah’s eyes found mine. My arm stretched across the pillows, fingers resting near his shoulder. I smiled and let my thumb trace a small sliver of skin just above his collar.

Noah looked between Jude and me. “It’s not just magic,” he said. “It’s pancakes on Sundays and cuddles before bed. It’s showing up when someone’s sad and cheering when they’re happy. It’s feeling safe and loved. It’s this—what we have. Our family. That’s our happily ever after.”

My heart just melted for him—for this, for what we had. Knowing that life had its ups and downs, knowing that we’d shared a million of them between us, but also knowing he was right. That it really was that simple. Right now, in this sleep-deprived state of happiness and belonging, this was our safe space. Our home.