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“You’ll be here next week though, right?” Rory’s voice has undertones of worry in them, so I balk at her.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to skip out on it, Cranny. It’s inspired by my book after all.”

She huffs out a sigh. “Good. I know it’s an adaptation but I really want to do your character justice.”

I laugh, not worried at all about her ability to bring my character to life. “Stop worrying, Rory. This is a dream come true. Imagine if we were to tell our twenty year old selves that you’d one day be starring in an adaptation of my book. They’d keel over.”

She gives a hearty laugh. “Isn’t that the damn truth.”

A small noise comes from her side of the call before she gives a slight groan. “I’ll have to call you back. There’s apparently a hole in our roof.”

I try to silence my giggle in my hand. “Tell your pack I said hello.”

“Always. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Just as I hang up, the back door swings open and my alpha walks out holding a plate and fork. I give a little excited yip, my hands already reaching out to take it from him.

“Sera keeps asking when she’ll be able to feed the baby cake.” Atlas hands me a slice before taking a seat next to me.

“I don’t know how any of us didn’t see this coming.

Her obsession with cake rivals her father’s.

” I take the plate, digging in immediately.

The first bite is heaven, the beautiful raspberry lemon a burst of flavor in my mouth.

Kendall makes it every year for my birthday, but I never get tired of it.

It reminds me of that feeling I got that very first time. The hope it poured into me.

A happy squeal cuts in. Our four year old daughter runs out of the house while chased by her three other dads, the happiness palpable from where I’m sitting.

Kendall catches her and then proceeds to fly her around like an airplane.

Ciro is mimicking the noises, and Uriah is watching with a gigantic smile.

He’s always smiling these days.

“Maybe this one will get our love of reading,” Atlas says. His hand falls upon my stomach, rubbing it with affection. He gives me the same smile that he’s given me for years. The one that communicates how much he loves me without having to say it. It still gives me butterflies.

“Maybe. Or maybe he’ll get your love for hockey.”

“There’s still time with Sera, too,” he quips, still admiring my belly. I know he won’t be disappointed if neither of our children take up hockey, but if they do, they’ll have three dads who can teach them everything they know.

Atlas retired from the Washington Capitals a couple seasons ago.

He had the potential to do many more, but with the arrival of Sera, he was worried about the risk of being traded.

He wanted Sera to grow up in one place, to have a stable home.

So, he said goodbye to his first love so he could protect his latest one.

We all changed after having Sera.

After giving birth, we all mutually decided that it would be best if I went back to therapy.

The overpowering emotions that came with becoming a mother was too much for me at first. It brought back a lot of my earliest memories, times when I was nurtured by nannies instead of my parents.

Times when I wondered what I had done wrong to deserve being disregarded by them.

The wounds left in me from childhood caused a rift. I tried extra hard to not be like my parents, to the point where I was a bit too hands-on, never accepting help when it was obvious I was exhausted. They were all worried about me, about my moments of spacing out that I hadn’t had in years.

It was a tough spell to get through, but the outcome was damn rewarding because we raised such a joyful child.

She loves baking, listening to her papa’s music, running around in the yard.

She’s full of energy and never lets us rest for a moment.

Even with five of us raising her, it’s still a whirlwind.

But it’s because of how she turned out that made us want to try for a second. This time, I’ll be better prepared for the unexpected emotional rollercoaster. This time, I’ll let my pack take some of the load off. It won’t be perfect, I remind myself, but it’ll all turn out okay. I know that now.

There’s good days and there’s bad days. There’s moments where I have to remind myself that healing substantially doesn’t mean I will always be happy and joyful.

It’s healthy to have both positive and negative emotions.

It does not mean I am retreating back into old habits, it just means I have a new opportunity to try again.

I haven’t seen my parents since that day I moved out.

I haven’t even spoken to them. It’s bittersweet, both relieving and frustrating.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever completely remove that wound, the curiosity of why my parents couldn’t love me like parents are supposed to.

But every time it comes up, I remind myself that it doesn’t matter why.

It was their choice. Just like it’s my choice to be done with it all.

There’s never a solid answer. Sometimes, all you have to do is focus on where you are in the moment, the tangible present.

This is real, what’s in front of you right now .

And as I watch my beautiful husbands wrangle our four year old up in their arms and run around with her through the lush green yard, I realize I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“Where’d you go, angel?” I feel Atlas caressing my cheek, his beautiful scent trailing over to me.

I give him a smile and put my hand on top of his, fully content. “Nowhere. I’m happy right where I am.”

THE END