His thumbs stroke along the peaks of my cheekbones, and he holds my head between his palms. Reverently. Delicately. With so much love. “You’re right that I did this once out of obligation. But I’m a thirty-eight-year-old man who has taken years to trust someone again. I’ve had a lot of time to think about where I went wrong. You are not a decision I made lightly. And tying myself to someone I don’t love out of some misplaced sense of duty is not a mistake I plan to make twice.”

A tear slips out of my eye, and he thumbs it away instantly, stroking at my hair now like he always does. “I’m glad you aren’t sad about the baby because I’m not either. But I want to be clear that you have options. All the options in the world. And I’ll be here with you, no matter what. I want to come home to the sound of you and Luke laughing. I want to listen to you play the guitar while I cook dinner. I want to leave you Post-it notes for a long time. I don’t want you to feel stuck with me.”

More tears slide down my cheeks, and he catches every single one. Always sturdy and reliable.

“I do really love your Post-it notes,” I whisper.

“Then I’ll keep writing them.”

“But I still think I’m a better cook.” I huff out, and I know I’m trying to cut the tension with humor, it works for me though, and I’ll probably never stop.

Cade groans but it’s playful. “We’ll have to learn to agree to disagree on some things because I’m not letting you go.”

“Luke agrees with me,” I argue, sliding my hands up his chest.

“I think it’s cute when you two team up on me. I’ll have to make sure the new baby is on my team though. Train ’em young.”

With a deep, relieved sigh, I curl myself back into his chest and revel in the feel of his arms around me. And I say my piece. “I don’t feel stuck with you at all. For weeks I’ve been dreading leaving. You. Luke. This place. I’ve never felt so settled . . . so at home. I also never saw my life unfolding this way.”

He rubs a hand up and down the column of my spine. “Me neither, Red. That’s just life. But you know, I’m not sure I’d have it any other way.”

“You’re not sad?”

“Not even a little bit,” he replies firmly. And I can tell that he means it. “I’ve watched you with Luke for months now and marveled over what an incredible mom you’d be one day. A mom I wished Luke could have for himself . . .” He trails off before adding, “Are you sad?”