Page 22

Chapter twenty-two

Epilogue

Five years later

"You're so fucking beautiful like this," Ryder says, his voice thick with want. My body strains against the ropes, the binds biting into my skin, but it only adds to the intensity of the moment. I am his, and his alone. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Ryder stands before me, a vision of raw, masculine power. His broad shoulders and muscular chest draw my attention. I can feel his intense gaze raking over my bound form, taking ownership of me with his eyes. I know his gaze will inevitably drift to the butt plug nestled within me, sending vibrations through my body. It's one of his favorite toys—one that never fails to leave me breathless and begging for more.

A flogger trails over my shoulder, then down my arm, the soft leather tendrils raising goose bumps as they glide across my skin. I bite my lip, already anticipating the sting. I want it—want him—so desperately.

The leather tails against my skin sends a spark of pleasure-pain shooting through me. I suck in a sharp breath as my body tenses, every nerve ending screaming to life and tingling. The second strike comes a little harder, and I moan, the sound escaping from deep within me.

Ryder moves in closer. With each precise strike of the flogger, he whispers in my ear words of encouragement, reminding me to breathe, to feel, to let the sensations take over my body.

As the rhythmic impacts continue, my mo ans grow louder, filling the room and mingling with the sharp crack of the flogger. This dance between us is a delicate mix of raw, primal desire and the deepest trust. I give in to the sensations, and I never want this moment to end.

"You're my good little whore, aren't you?" His voice breaks through the haze of pleasure.

"Yes, Sir."

Ryder's fingers find the chain around my neck, and I inhale sharply as he begins to gently tug. The slip necklace, an intricate design of twin hearts linked together, tightens, becoming a choker as he pulls on one of the hearts.

It's a unique design—crafted of white gold, accented with sparkling diamonds—a gift from Ryder on our second wedding anniversary. At that point, we'd been visiting the club consistently for a little over a year—embracing our kinks and exploring our desires together.

"You like this, don't you, baby?" Ryder whispers, his breath warm on my skin. "You love the feeling of being mine, wearing my collar."

His fingers play with the hearts on the chain, twisting lightly and pulling, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core. I gasp, my breath catching as my body responds to his words and his touch.

"Yes, Sir... please, more," I plead, my voice a mere whisper, my desire for him overwhelming.

Ryder leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, "I knew this would be your favorite piece of jewelry."

The chain tightens further, the perfect amount of pressure that ignites a fire within me. My cheeks flush, not from embarrassment, but from the sheer intensity of my desire.

"It is, Sir."

"Good," he says with satisfaction. "Because I have no intention of ever taking it off of you." His hand glides down to my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I arch my back, pushing myself into his touch, craving more.

"Please, Sir... I need you," I beg, my voice coming out in a raspy plea. The club, the world beyond these walls, ceases to exist. Here, it's only the two of us, and the raw, powerful connection be tween us.

With a low, hungry growl, he moves with purpose, removing my restraints with precision. The sound of the restraints falling away sends a thrill through me.

"Get your sexy ass up on this bed and kneel. It's time for me to make my little whore come hard."

"Yes, Sir," I say as I move onto the bed. The cool silk sheets caress my skin as I position myself on my knees with my legs spread wide apart. Presenting myself to him just as he likes.

I feel his intense eyes on me once again, roaming over my offered body, taking in every inch of me, and I bask in the heat of his gaze. I want to be consumed, completely devoured by those intense eyes and his unrestrained need. I yearn to feel the brand of his hands, to burn under his touch.

Then, his large hands glide up my thighs, his touch both a promise and a command. My breath picks up as his fingers continue their tantalizing journey, inching ever closer to the apex of my thighs where I need his touch the most.

His fingers reach their destination, teasing me with soft brushes against my pussy, making my need for him even more desperate. I ache for his touch, and he knows it. Finally, his fingers find my wetness, sliding through my folds with an intimate knowledge. I gasp as he circles my clit, his touch light and teasing. Then, he plunges a finger deep inside me with one smooth thrust.

"Always so fucking wet for me."

"Yes, Sir," I whisper, my lips parting as I bite down on my lower lip. My body responding eagerly to his every touch.

His finger begins to move inside me, slowly at first, a gentle, torturous rhythm that has me whimpering for more. Then, always knowing exactly what I need, he increases his speed, his finger applying more pressure, moving faster and harder with each thrust.

"You like that, don't you?" He knows the effect he has on me and uses it to his full advantage. I can only imagine the smug look on his face as he says those words.

"Yes, Sir, I do," I admit. I'm putty in his hands, and we both know it.

He adds another finger, stretching me, filling me, and it's almost too much. Almost. His thumb finds my clit and circles it slowly. My body trembles uncontrollably with each stroke, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through me. He knows exactly how to touch me in all the right places. He's pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me, baby. Let go and let me feel you clench around my fingers." It's a command, and I'm helpless to do anything but obey. His free hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place. His eyes never leave my face, watching me intently for my reaction to his every touch.

His fingers work me relentlessly. I tense up, coiling tighter and tighter, until I shatter beneath him with a cry. My release washes over me, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout my body, leaving me trembling in his arms.

Ryder's touch softens as he tenderly brushes my hair away from my face, his eyes filled with warmth.

"That's my good girl," his voice is like a warm caress of approval. "But we're not done yet, we are far from finished. I'm just getting started with you."

I smile lazily at him, my body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

"I'm yours to do with as you please, Sir."

"Damn right, you are. Now bend over, I'm going to fuck that ass I love so much."

I obey, bending over and offering myself up to him.

He positions me just how he wants me, and I know his eyes are raking over my body, appraising, admiring. One of his hands grip the back of my neck. Ryder's other hand connects with my ass with a sharp crack, and I cry out a moan in response. The sting of his palm against my flesh sending pleasure and pain straight to my core.

"This ass is mine," his vow of possession is followed by a feather-light touch trailing over the mark he just left. I can feel the heat coming off my skin under his touch. I push back against his hand, craving more of his touch, more of his possession.

"Yes, Sir," my words turn into a high-pitched moan as I feel the butt plug being gently pulled from my body. That sensation alone is almost enough to make me come.

I'm already missing the fullness I felt with the plug inside me.

I turn, eager to watch Ryder when I hear him flick open the lube, the sound sending a thrill through me. My eyes are immediately drawn to his hand as he strokes his cock. I'm mesmerized as I watch the head of his thick cock, glistening with lube, pumping in and out of his fist.

My favorite show ends much too quickly as he puts a few drops of lube onto his finger and then easily slides it inside of me, then adds another. He moves his fingers, preparing my body, stretching and filling me, ensuring I'm ready to accept all of him.

Positioning himself behind me, Ryder lines up his cock and presses it against my entrance. I want him inside me, now. But I take my time, inching myself back, slowly taking his hard shaft deep inside of me. He allows me to take my time as I adjust to his size.

Once I've taken every inch of him, and I'm deliciously filled, Ryder starts moving, and we both groan at the sensation. The feeling of being stretched and filled by him is incredible.

"Fuck, I love having you this way," he grunts. "So tight, so damn perfect having you wrapped around me." His hands grip my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he begins to move. His hands grip my hips tightly, his fingers digging into my skin as he begins to move, setting a steady, relentless pace.

I push back against him, meeting each of his thrusts. I love feeling him move deep inside of me.

Ryder's chest presses against my back, his lips close to my ear as he leans in close. "You're taking me so well," he whispers between thrusts. "Such a good fucking girl for me. So tight and perfect."

His words spur me on, and I push back harder, craving more of him. Wanting to feel him even deeper inside of me.

"Please, Sir," I beg. "I need more." I'm desperate for the pleasure only he can give. Ryder's hands tighten on my hips as he begins to drive into me with powerful, precise thrusts.

The coil of tension deep within my core begins to wind tighter with each thrust, that delicious pressure building again with each stroke.

"Come for me, baby. I want to feel you gripping me tight when you come on my cock."

His words send me careening over the ed ge, and I cry out, my voice echoing off the walls. My body shakes uncontrollably as I convulse around him, milking his cock as he continues to thrust into me, prolonging my pleasure.

When Ryder finally pulls out, I whimper, my body craving more. He gives me a wicked smile, "Turn around and face me, baby."

I do as he says, kneeling before him, my eyes locked on his. Ryder's gaze is intense, burning into me as his big hand wraps around his thick cock. He slowly pumps it, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watches me play with my clit and pinching my nipples just how he likes it. I feel like I'm his very own naughty puppet.

His eyes hold me captive as he strokes himself faster. He may be the one in control, but I hold all the power in this moment. I'm the one pushing him over the edge.

With a deep grunt, he explodes. His hot cum spilling across my face, some landing in my open mouth, the rest coats my neck and chest, marking me as his.

I lick my lips, savoring the salty taste of him. The action earns a growl from Ryder. It's an act of devotion, a silent declaration of my desire to please him in any way I can. I want to show him I'm his, body and soul.

Ryder watches me intently with hooded eyes, his chest heaving. I reach up, my fingers tracing the paths of his release on my skin. I bring my glistening fingers to my mouth, sucking his cum from them slowly, one by one, my eyes never leaving his.

Not satisfied with just tasting, I rub his cum across my breasts, spreading it like a balm, coating my skin with his mark. My fingers glide over my sensitive nipples, and I moan softly as they pebble under my touch.

Ryder's gaze holds me captive, never leaving mine as I caress myself with his release. I can see the satisfaction—the possessiveness—in the way he watches me, still trying to catch his breath from his climax.

Finally, I lean back, licking my fingers clean again. "Did I please you, Sir?"

"Mom, dad wants to know where his keys are. He can't find them and we are going to be late… again." Mikhail yells, bursting into the kitchen. Behind him, a panicked Ryder scurries about, checking beneath everything in his path.

I walk over to the key hook beside the back door, I snag his keys from its peg and dangle them from my fingertip.

"Are these what you're looking for?"

Ryder looks up, "Thank god, Ava" He walks over to me and gives me a quick kiss on the lips as he takes his keys from my finger. He leans close to my ear and whispers, "You know, I wouldn't be running so late if someone didn't want to stay at the club so late last night."

"Oh, are you complaining?"

"Not at all. Just pointing out the facts. I was ready to—" Ryder gets cut off by Mikhail.

"Dad, come on! The game starts in an hour and I need to be at the field in ten minutes. Uncle August will have me doing extra sprints because of this!"

I try to hide my smile behind my hand at how frustrated he is.

"Okay, okay let's go. I'll tell your uncle that your mom is the reason we are running late."

I shove Ryder playfully, "No sir, you will not put the blame on me for YOU losing YOUR keys."

"Dad, come on. It doesn't matter. Uncle August says that as men we have to take responsibility for being on time."

I smile at my son's words. At fifteen years old, Mikhail has become August's shadow on the soccer team, hanging on every piece of wisdom my brother shares. It's heartwarming seeing their bond grow stronger each day, especially after everything we've all been through.

"Well, your uncle's right about that," Ryder concedes, ruffling Mikhail's dark hair. "Let's get moving then, champ."

I watch them gather their gear, Mikhail slinging his soccer bag over his shoulder while Ryder does one final pat-down of his pockets. Four years of marriage, and my husband still loses his keys at least twice a week. Some things never change.

"Remember we're having dinner at Danie ’s after the game," I call out as they head for the door. "And tell my brother to go easy on the sprints!"

"No promises, Mom!" Mikhail grins, already halfway out the door.

Ryder pauses at the threshold, turning back to give me another quick kiss. "We'll see you later at the game, babe."

"Of course, I'm just going to finish up some work that needs done by Monday's class, then I'll be on my way."

"Alright, Professor Jade-Donovan." He winks at me, using my full academic title just to tease. "Don't work too hard."

"DAD!" Mikhail's exasperated voice carries from outside.

"I’m coming, I’m coming!" Ryder laughs, finally heading out the door.

I watch through the kitchen window as they climb into Ryder's SUV, my heart full at the sight of my two favorite men. Who would have thought that the arrogant alpha male who crashed my feminist rally all those years ago would be such an amazing husband and father? Life has a funny way of surprising you sometimes.

The sound of their car pulling out of the driveway fades, leaving me alone with my work and my thoughts. I settle at the counter with my coffee, ready to dive into my students' papers, grateful for this quiet moment of peace in our wonderfully chaotic life.

I still remember my shock when I learned Ryder had put my name as Mikhail's mother on the falsified adoption paperwork. They'd returned from their mission in Russia with both my sweet boy and my brother, August. The moment Mikhail walked into my room at the Rising Sun, I knew he was mine. My chest tightens whenever I think about everything he suffered before Chase and Ryder found him in that Russian monster’s home.

I settle in at my desk with a stack of my student’s papers. As I begin reading over them, I can't stop my mind from drifting back to those early days. I remember the first time Mikhail called me Mom—it wasn't planned or forced. We were baking cookies together, flour dusting both our faces, when he simply said it as naturally as breathing. I had to excuse myself to cry happy tears in the bathroom.

My phone buzzes, interrupting my reminiscing. It's a text from Danie.

Danie: Your brother is being impossible about the menu for tonight. Says we need protein-heavy options for 'his athlete’. ?? Help!

Tell him the kid isn’t an Olympic contender yet. But maybe throw in some grilled chicken to keep him happy?

Glancing at the clock, I realize I should start grading if I want to make it to Mikhail's game on time. These women's studies papers won't grade themselves, and I need to maintain my reputation as the ‘tough but fair’ professor.

As I pick up the first essay, I smile at the topic: "Modern Feminism and Power Dynamics in Relationships." Oh, if my students only knew how their professor's own views on that subject have evolved over the years. Ryder helped me understand that true strength isn't about rejecting traditional roles, but about having the freedom to choose what works for you.

My phone buzzes again—this time it's a photo from Ryder of Mikhail warming up on the field, August gesturing animatedly as he gives instructions. My two guys, plus my brother, all in one frame. My heart swells with gratitude.

Setting my papers aside, I head upstairs to change for the game. In our bedroom, I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror. My blonde hair now falls past my shoulders, and there's a contentment in my eyes that wasn't there five years ago.

I slip on one of Mikhail's team shirts, the fabric soft from countless washes. The number 17 and ‘DONOVAN’ stretched across my back makes me smile every time I see it.

I grab my purse and car keys—which are always in the same place, unlike someone I know—ready to head out the door. The house feels different now than it did five years ago. It’s warmer, fuller, alive with memories of family dinners, homework sessions, and lazy Sunday mornings.

I pull into the parking lot at the soccer field, spotting Danie pacing near the bleachers. Her green eyes light up when she sees me, and she practically sprints over before I can even shut my car door.

"Everything is a go for tonight!" She squeals, bouncing on her toes with barely contained excitement. "Chase helped me set up the surprise while August was at practice. Your brother doesn't suspect a thing."

"Shhh!" I glance around nervously, making sur e Ryder isn't within earshot. "I still can't believe I've managed to keep this secret for two weeks."

"Girl, I can't believe you haven't burst yet. You're literally glowing!" Danie links her arm through mine as we walk toward the field. "Have you decided how you're going to tell them?"

"I got Mikhail a 'World's Best Big Brother' T-shirt." I pat my oversized purse where the wrapped package sits.

"Oh my god, that's perfect! Ryder's going to flip!" Danie squeezes my arm. "And Mikhail—he's wanted a sibling forever."

"I know." My hand drifts to my still-flat stomach. "I can hardly wait to see their faces."

We find seats in the bleachers, and I spot Ryder talking with some other parents near the sidelines. He catches my eye and winks, making my heart flutter just like it did all those years ago. If only he knew the surprise waiting for him tonight.

"You're sure you're feeling okay," Danie whispers. "No morning sickness?"

"Not yet. Though I nearly gave myself away yesterday when Ryder was cooking bacon. The smell hit me so hard I had to pretend I was getting a migraine and hide in our bedroom."

The game is intense, with Mikhail's team fighting hard against their rivals. August paces the sidelines, shouting encouragement and directions. My son moves with grace across the field, his determination evident in every stride. He reminds me so much of Ryder—that same focused intensity, that drive to succeed.

"He's gotten so good," Danie remarks beside me. "August said he could play college ball if he keeps this up."

"I know." Pride swells in my chest. "Though sometimes I worry August pushes him too hard."

"Please, that boy worships the ground your brother walks on. And August would never..." Danie's voice trails off as Chase appears, climbing the bleachers toward us.

"Ladies," he greets with a grin. "Thought I'd catch the second half of the game. How're we doing?"

"Tied one-all," I reply, scooting over to mak e room. "Mikhail almost scored earlier but their keeper made an amazing save."

I catch Ryder watching us from his spot near the team bench. Even from this distance, his intense gaze makes my skin tingle. Four years of marriage hasn't dampened that electric connection between us one bit. My hand drifts to my stomach again, thinking about the news I'll share tonight.

The referee's whistle pierces the air—halftime. As the teams jog off the field, Mikhail waves up at me. I wave back, fighting the urge to run down and hug him like I did when he was younger. He's ‘too cool’ for mom hugs at games now, though he still cuddles up next to me during movie nights at home.

"I'm going to grab some water," I tell Danie. "Want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good." She gives me a knowing look. "Just don't take too long—you wouldn't want to miss any exciting developments."

I roll my eyes at her less-than-subtle reference to tonight's surprise announcement. As I make my way down the bleachers, I smile to myself, imagining how different these Saturday games will look next year with a baby in tow.

As I settle back into my seat with my water bottle, the teams return to the field for the second half. Mikhail takes his position as striker, his stance mirroring Ryder's confident posture. The whistle blows and the game resumes with renewed intensity.

"Come on, Mikhail!" I hear August's voice boom across the field. My brother's coaching style might seem intense to outsiders, but I know it comes from a place of love.

The ball moves back and forth between the teams, neither side giving an inch. Mikhail makes a beautiful run down the left side, weaving between defenders. My heart races as he approaches the goal.

"He's got this," Danie whispers beside me, gripping my arm.

Mikhail cuts to the inside, faking out the last defender. The goalkeeper comes off his line. Time seems to slow as my son pulls back his leg and kicks the ball. It curves perfectly around the keeper and into the top corner of the net.

The crowd erupts. I jump to my feet, screaming in celebration. Ryder pumps his fist in the air while August runs alon g the sideline, shouting praise. Mikhail's teammates mob him in celebration.

"That's my boy!" I shout, pride swelling in my chest.

The remaining twenty minutes are nerve-wracking as the other team pushes hard for an equalizer. Mikhail drops back to help defend, showing the tactical awareness August has been drilling into him. When the final whistle blows, we've held on for a 2-1 victory.

I watch as August gathers the team for a post-game talk, Mikhail beaming as his uncle singles out his game-winning goal for praise. Ryder catches my eye from the sideline and grins, sharing our mutual pride for our son's achievement.

I make my way down to the field after the game, weaving through the crowd of parents and players. Mikhail spots me and jogs over, his face still flushed and sweaty from the game.

"Mom! Did you see my goal?" His eyes shine with excitement despite trying to maintain his teenage cool.

"See it? I'm pretty sure they heard me cheering all the way in downtown Seattle!" I pull him into a quick side hug, careful not to embarrass him in front of his teammates. "You were amazing out there, honey."

Ryder appears behind us, ruffling Mikhail's sweat-dampened hair. "That's my boy. Perfect placement on that shot."

"Uncle August has been working with me on those curved shots all week," Mikhail explains, practically beaming with pride.

Speaking of my brother, August strides over with his coach's clipboard tucked under his arm. "Great game, kid. Those drills are paying off." He turns to me with a grin. "Your son's got natural talent, sis."

"That he does," I say, smiling up at him.

"Are we still on for dinner?" August asks, checking his watch. "Danie's been texting me about some special announcement?"

My heart skips a beat, but I keep my expression neutral. "Yeah, we'll head over after Mikhail gets changed."

"I'll grab my bag," Mikhail says, jogging off toward the team bench.

Ryder slides an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "You okay? You seem a little distracted today."

"I’m ju st excited about having everyone together for dinner," I reply, leaning into his warmth. The small wrapped package in my purse feels like it weighs a ton. In just a few hours, our whole world will shift again—in the best possible way.

"Race you to the car!" Mikhail calls out, already sprinting past us with his gear.

"No fair, head start!" Ryder shouts back, giving me a quick kiss before chasing after our son.

I watch them roughhouse their way to the parking lot. After everything we've been through, these simple moments of joy feel like miracles.

I watch Danie fidgeting with the table settings for the tenth time, her usual composed demeanor replaced by barely contained excitement. She keeps glancing at the door every few seconds, waiting for everyone to arrive.

"You're going to give everything away if you don't calm down," I whisper, adjusting a napkin she's crumpled in her nervous energy.

"I can't help it!" She smooths her dress. "This is huge, Ava. Everything's changing."

The front door opens and August strides in, carrying two bottles of wine. His eyes immediately find mine, his face softening the way it always does when he looks at me. Setting the bottles down, he eyes Danie suspiciously.

"You okay, Danie? You seem... jittery." He asks, studying her face.

"I'm fine!” She answers a little too loudly. “Just excited about dinner. Everything's perfect. You're perfect. This night is perfect!"

I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at her obvious overcompensation. My usually cool-headed friend is absolutely terrible at keeping secrets when she's this worked up about them.

August raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of us. "Okay, what's going on with you two?"

"Nothing!" Danie squeaks, her voice an octave higher than normal. "Can't a girl just be happy to have everyone together?"

I stifle another laugh at Danie's terrible at tempt at playing it cool. My brother may be dense sometimes, but even he can tell something's up. Before he can press further, Ryder and Mikhail burst through the front door, their playful wrestling match from the car apparently still going strong.

"Dad! Not fair!" Mikhail protests through his laughter as Ryder has him in a loose headlock.

"Life's not fair, kid. Better learn that early," Ryder teases, releasing our son who immediately tries to tackle him back.

"Alright you two, enough wrestling. Dinner's ready," I call out, grateful for the distraction from Danie's suspicious behavior.

"But Mom, I almost had him!" Mikhail protests, though he's already heading toward his seat at the table.

"Sure you did, champ," Ryder drops a quick kiss on my cheek as he passes me.

We all settle around the table, the familiar chaos of passing dishes and pouring drinks washing over me. Chase, Keith, and Ethan arrived somewhere in the midst of it all, completing our little family circle. Looking around at these faces I love so much, my heart swells with anticipation. In just a few minutes, everything will change.

Danie catches my eye across the table and gives me an encouraging nod. She's practically bouncing in her seat now, making August eye her with increasing suspicion.

"Before we dig in," I start, my voice surprisingly steady despite my racing heart, "I have something for Mikhail."

I reach for my purse, feeling everyone's eyes on me as I pull the wrapped package from my purse. My fingers tremble slightly as I hand it to Mikhail across the table. "I saw this and thought of you, sweetheart."

Mikhail takes the gift with a puzzled expression. "But it's not my birthday or anything..."

"Just open it," I encourage, my heart hammering against my ribs. Beside me, Ryder squeezes my knee under the table, giving me a curious look.

The room falls silent except for the sound of tearing paper. Mikhail unfolds the blue t-shirt, holding it up to read the text. His eyes go wide as the words ‘World's Best Big Brother’ register.

"Mom?" His voice cracks with emotion. "Are yo u...?"

I nod, tears welling up in my eyes. "Yes, baby. You're going to be a big brother."

The room erupts in excited gasps and exclamations. Ryder's hand tightens on my knee, and I turn to see his face frozen in stunned disbelief.

"You're pregnant?" he whispers, his blue eyes searching mine.

"Eight weeks," I confirm softly. "I found out a few weeks ago, but wanted to wait until everyone was together to share the news."

Ryder pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his chest. I feel the rapid beat of his heart matching mine. When he pulls back, there are tears in his eyes.

"A baby," he breathes, his hand drifting to my still-flat stomach. "We're having a baby."

Mikhail launches himself around the table, nearly knocking over his water glass in his rush to hug me. "I can't believe it! I'm going to teach them soccer and everything!"

August wraps his arms around both me and Mikhail, his voice gruff with emotion. "Congratulations, sis. You're going to be amazing parents... again."

I look over at Danie, who's openly crying now. "Thank god I can finally stop pretending! Do you know how hard it's been keeping this secret?"

The room fills with laughter and more hugs as everyone processes the news. Chase raises his glass in a toast, and even through my happy tears, I can see the joy radiating from every face around our table.

Who would have thought that the feminist professor who once railed against traditional power dynamics would find such joy in this life? But then again, Ryder taught me that true power lies in choosing your own path, whatever that may be. And my path led me here—to a family built on love, trust, and the occasional misplaced set of keys.