Page 67 of Let It Snow (Eden’s Omegaverse #7)

The next few weeks I spend thinking deeply about my life, coming to terms with who I am and who Snow is.

But this time, there’s more calm and acceptance in it, along with an authentic understanding of my place in the world.

I’m fully aware that the right choice for us is to live quietly, keeping a low profile and avoiding using our powers as much as possible.

I’m more convinced than ever that my parents were right to teach me caution, drilling into my head that with a power like mine, I will always be a target for dangerous people who might want to use it for their own gain.

And there’s one more thing I’ve come to understand: that I also could be the one who truly endangers others.

The events of the past year have proved it all.

Snow shares these conclusions. After all, he also chose a quiet life. He knows too that the more you show yourself to the world, the more the world demands from you, and never on your own terms.

I spend long hours staring out the window, reflecting on myself and my life, until one day I finally sit down with Snow and ask, seriously, if he sees any more blind spots ahead, any danger in our future, anything we should be worried about.

Snow smiles and says,

"Fortunately, all I see are small, gentle swells, blue waves rolling in from the future. No blind spots. It looks like we’ve sailed out into open waters, Summer.

I know it’s hard to believe after everything you’ve been through, and I admit even for me it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, but the stormfront is behind us.

Ahead there’s just the wide sky, our next chapter. "

I pause there for a moment, just looking at him, letting it really sink in.

Is that possible? Is this finally the end? I’ve grown so used to something constantly happening, something breaking me, tearing my world down, pulling me off balance, that I have trouble accepting the kind of calm after the storm Snow is talking about.

Help comes from an unexpected direction:

Life itself.

From the rolling hours of the days as they unfold, from the small everyday events, inconspicuous yet weaving the tapestry of our life, from the slow arrival of another week, calm and ordinary, and from the simple challenges that I gradually work my way through.

And maybe the most helpful thing of all is…

The house.

By January, the tiny house model Snow bought finally arrives. The plot has already been prepared with all the utility hookups in place, so the building just needs to be brought in and set down.

Of course, it comes completely unfurnished.

That’s where I step in, and that’s where the crucial part of my healing and finding peace begins.

At first, I’m a bit overwhelmed, but soon I immerse myself fully in the process.

I start browsing catalogs and websites that specialize in furnishing tiny homes.

I check out local companies that build custom furniture, and sometimes I sit staring at the screen for a long time, almost hypnotized, picking colors, textures, and materials.

I don’t know anything about interior design, so it takes me forever.

I sift through countless projects before I can finally decide what resonates with me most.

Very slowly, an image of a dream house starts taking shape in my mind, a dream I didn’t even realize I had. But it’s gaining form and clarity. Snow cheers me on, assuring me he trusts me completely, that he knows I’ll make the place beautiful.

Lake helps sometimes too, offering little suggestions so gently, so tactfully, that I can’t help but silently congratulate myself on having a dad-in-law like him. Zero ‘annoying’ factor, which, let’s be honest, is rare in his category of people (in-laws!).

Soon, the house starts to feel like it has a soul.

It’s the biggest model of all the mobile homes, with two extra upstairs rooms that could easily be adapted into children’s bedrooms.

For some reason, it thrills me that Snow has chosen this kind of house instead of building a massive, traditional one.

I love these small models. They’re cozy, welcoming, never overwhelming. Low key. Exactly what we need.

We spend the last part of January and the beginning of February fine-tuning every detail, shaping it exactly the way we envision.

It’s a fascinating, exciting process that brings us even closer together.

I never thought that turning a house into a home, which is large-scale nesting in its essence, could bring me so much joy.

Immersed in all this, I slowly forget about the events of the past few months. My mental health has become a non-issue. There are no traumatic flashbacks, no obsessive thoughts about Ferro’s potential revenge.

Thanks to the preparations and the TM healing sex, the days that follow clear up for me, and I wake up in the morning breathing freely, my mind light, my energy unblocked.

Surprisingly, I’m not even slightly worried when Lake and Aiden decide to cancel the security service they paid for back in December.

They come to the conclusion that it’s pointless now, with the news about Rocco’s death and Ennio stepping into his place out in the open.

The mystery of the missing guards on the day we were kidnapped is also cleared up.

Apparently, their company had a big event to cover and needed extra staff.

They supposedly sent a note about it to the Nolans, which sounds a bit suspicious to me, but Snow’s convinced the Ferros just paid them off to create an excuse and pull the guards from their posts.

Either way, the Nolans decide to stop using their services altogether, and… I’m fine with that. There’s a peace within me that grows stronger every day, accompanied by a subtle yet powerful shift.

It’s around that time that a certain nagging thought starts appearing more and more often.

Soon, I’m going to be an adoptive dad.

I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that I have no contact with the children growing inside Theo’s belly. But every time the idea of visiting Snow’s ex-lover crosses my mind, a cold shiver of distress runs through me.

Our last meeting didn’t go well at all. I’m sure I didn’t make a good impression, and I doubt he’d be thrilled to see me show up at his home.

Still, the thought that by early February, Theo is already in his fifth month of pregnancy, with a clearly showing belly, keeps haunting me.

Struggling with this fills my days, as I often stop in those small rooms on the second floor of our house and sink into long moments of reflection. I stare at the walls, which we painted in soft pastel colors. I look at the cribs we bought and all the other baby equipment that is already there.

On the other hand, maybe Theo’s also struggling with fears about his children’s future?

If he got to know me, if he realized I’m not the jealous green-eyed monster I must have seemed to him, maybe it would ease something in him too.

One morning I just wake up with a firm decision.

I’m going to visit Theo.

Crazy? Probably. Most likely, I’m setting myself up for the very real possibility of getting thrown out of his house.

That morning I order an Uber and I slip out without anyone noticing.

I get Theo’s address from the most unlikely source: Bay. The Kellan family lives much closer to downtown, so it takes me nearly forty minutes to get there.

On the way I rehearse dozens of possible conversations in my head, but in the end I decide to just let things unfold naturally.

I arrive around ten in the morning, choosing that time deliberately. I assume Theo’s husband is at work and the kids are either in school or preschool.

The neighborhood is upscale. The house itself is beautiful, modern but not ostentatious. I’m still unpleasantly surprised to see a guard booth at the entrance. In hindsight, I shouldn’t be. Tim is a state senator now, a public figure.

That means I have to explain who I am, which isn’t simple. What am I supposed to say?

That I’m the boyfriend of his ex-lover? Ridiculous. That I’m the man planning to adopt his children? Even worse, especially since Theo is still hiding his pregnancy as far as I know.

So I tell the guard that I’m a friend of his friend and give my name, slightly altered: Summer Nolan. I want to make sure Theo will notice.

The guard makes a call inside. I sigh quietly, because it really does feel like trying to arrange an audience with a king.

He listens for a moment, then turns back to me.

"Mr. Kellan would like to know what this is regarding."

So it’s not going to be easy. He’s guarding access to himself, maybe assuming that in a jealous rage I want to confront him. I decide not to waste time or hide behind vague words.

I raise my voice so Theo can hear me through the guard’s phone.

"I’d rather not say what it’s about out here, but it concerns a man Mr. Kellan knows, Snow. Some things have happened that I think could be very important for him to know."

There’s a pause, then I hear Theo’s voice, muffled by the guard’s hand over the receiver.

"Let him in."

I exhale. Finally.

Walking along the path past the wide garage, I climb onto the porch. I lift my hand to knock on the heavy, metal-trimmed door, but before I can, it opens.

Theo stands there.

He’s changed a lot since the last time I saw him a few months ago. He’s undeniably rounder now. His belly juts forward like a ball. Of course, twins. No wonder he’s showing more than someone carrying a single baby would at this stage.

My eyes instinctively drop to his stomach, lingering there for a moment.

Theo, almost reflexively, lowers a hand over his belly, his fingers spreading protectively across it.

"How can I help you?" His voice is tight, his gray eyes focusing on me.

"I’d like to talk," I say calmly.

He doesn’t move.

I stand there awkwardly on the threshold, knowing I have to earn the invitation in. After all, I wasn’t exactly welcoming when he came to the Nolan property.

I clear my throat.