Page 32 of Hiss and Tell (Harmony Glen #2)

Chapter Thirty-One

A spen

Tuesday morning arrives with the kind of spring sunshine that makes everything feel possible. I’m sitting at my new home office desk—the one Sebastian helped me pick out and assemble—reviewing client invoices while the magical connection between us hums quietly in the background of my awareness.

I have three steady corporate clients now.

Three companies that trust me to organize their chaos and handle all the projects their full-time staff don’t have time for.

The anxious single mother who could barely manage her own paperwork has somehow become the woman local businesses call when they need real solutions.

“Mama!” Milo’s voice carries from the kitchen where Sebastian’s making breakfast. “Poppa Sebastian says I can help flip pancakes if I use my gentle hands!”

The casual way he calls Sebastian “Poppa” still makes my heart squeeze. It evolved naturally over the past three months—no pushing, no awkward conversations, just a four-year-old’s instinctive recognition of the man who shows up every single day.

Through our bond, I feel Sebastian’s joy at the title, his wonder that he gets to be someone’s chosen father figure. The shy librarian who once believed he wasn’t worthy of love now starts every morning making dinosaur-shaped pancakes for a little boy who adores him.

“Remember what we practiced about the spatula,” Sebastian says in that patient tone he uses during library storytimes.

“I know, I know. Support the pancake, don’t flip too fast, and if it tears, it’s still yummy.”

My phone buzzes with Derek’s ringtone, and my body reacts with that familiar spike of wariness. But the feeling fades quickly—he’s been different lately. Still inconsistent, but trying in ways that feel genuine.

“Hello, Derek.”

“Hey, Aspen. Do you have a minute? I wanted to ask about something.”

His voice sounds nervous but hopeful, not demanding like it used to. “What’s up?”

“Milo’s preschool graduation is next week, right? Would it be okay if I attended? I know I haven’t been great about school events, but I’ve been working on that in therapy, and I thought…”

I blink in surprise. Derek in therapy ? Him proactively asking about a school event instead of showing up at the last-minute or not at all? “Of course you can come. Milo would love that.”

“Really? I wasn’t sure if there would be enough space, or if Sebastian would mind, or—”

“Derek.” I interrupt his spiral gently. “You’re Milo’s father. You’re more than welcome at his graduation.”

Relief floods his voice. “Thank you. I know I haven’t earned the right to be included in these things, but I’m trying to do better. The parenting classes I’m taking have been… eye-opening.”

Through our bond, I feel Sebastian’s attention shift toward me—not intrusive, just aware. His support flows through our connection like warm honey.

“I’m glad you’re working on things,” I tell Derek honestly. “Milo deserves to have his dad show up for important moments.”

“He does. And Aspen? I want you to know—I see how happy he is. How secure. You and Sebastian have given him something I never could.”

After we hang up, Sebastian appears in my doorway with coffee and that questioning expression that means he sensed my emotional shift.

“Derek wants to come to Milo’s graduation,” I tell him, accepting the coffee gratefully.

“How do you feel about that?”

“Good, actually. He sounded genuine. Like he’s finally learning how to be present instead of just showing up when it’s convenient.”

Sebastian’s smile is soft and proud. “Milo will be thrilled.”

Later, at the grocery store, Mrs. Moskowitz intercepts us near the produce section. “Sebastian! Aspen! Milo! How lovely to see you together.”

The casual assumption that we’re a unit, that we belong together, still catches me off guard sometimes. But Mrs. Moskowitz has been treating us as an established family since our second fake date months ago.

“Getting ready for the graduation party?” she asks, eyeing our cart full of ingredients.

“Milo’s very specific about his celebration requirements,” Sebastian says solemnly. “Apparently, dinosaur cupcakes and macaroni salad are essential.”

“Wise boy.” She leans toward Milo, then rises and looks at me. “And how’s the business, dear?”

“Thriving, actually. I have a solid client base.”

“Good for you! Taking charge of your life like that.” She squeezes my arm warmly. “You two make such a lovely couple.”

As she bustles away, I catch Sebastian’s eye. “Sometimes it feels like the whole town is our extended family.”

Walking home with our groceries, I marvel at how different this feels from shopping alone with Milo just months ago.

Sebastian carries the heavy bags without being asked, Milo chatters about his upcoming graduation between bites of the apple Sebastian bought him, and I feel…

settled. This is how life is supposed to work.

As we’re putting the groceries away, my phone pings with a text from Thaddeus: Can I come celebrate Milo’s big day?

After showing Sebastian the message, he responds, “He spends more time with the three of us now than when we were both bachelors.”

“Of course he can come,” I say, already mentally planning the menu. “Milo loves when Uncle Thad visits.”

That’s when Sebastian’s phone rings. I can tell from his expression as he answers that it’s something good.

“Excellent news,” he says after hanging up. “The city council wants to expand our family literacy program to all four branch libraries. Full funding, dedicated space, and they want me to oversee the implementation.”

Throwing my arms around his neck, I’m practically vibrating with excitement. “Sebastian, that’s incredible! You’ll be running children’s programming for the entire city system!”

“It means more responsibility. Longer hours sometimes. Travel to the other branches…”

“And it means they recognize what an amazing job you’ve been doing. What a natural leader you are.” I pull back to meet his eyes. “You’ve transformed that library, Sebastian. And now you get to do it for kids all across the city.”

Through our bond, I feel his quiet pride, his amazement that his life has become something worth celebrating. The man who once hid in the stacks is now being trusted with expanding programs that help families across the entire library system.

“Milo’s going to be so proud when you tell him at dinner,” I add.

“When we tell him,” Sebastian corrects gently. “It’s our news to share with our son.”

Our son.

Some days, I still can’t believe this is my life. The struggling single mother who could barely manage one child now has a partner who makes parenting feel effortless, a business that’s finally stable, and a little boy who radiates security instead of anxiety.

Change used to terrify me. Now I see it as possibility .

And with Sebastian’s hand in mine and Milo’s laughter echoing from his bedroom where he’s practicing his graduation speech with Super Steggy, I finally understand what home really means.

It’s not a place. It’s the people who show up, consistently and without question, ready to build something beautiful together.