Ivy looks up at us, her excitement palpable as she asks, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Judge answers for us both, trying to come off as cool and collected. Meanwhile, he’s squeezing the life out of my hand.

Surprisingly, the room does actually fall into complete silence as Ivy cuts the cake, removing a perfect triangle to reveal a cascade of colorful candies. Only, there seems to be some confusion when we all notice there’s both blue and pink.

“You’re having one of each!” Ivy yells.

“Oh my god,” I murmur as shouts erupt around us.

Judge turns my face to his, and the warmth in his eyes nearly makes me melt into the floor. He’s never looked happier.

“One of each,” he whispers against my lips. “I did that.”

I smile against him and nod, giving him the credit he’s weirdly proud of. “Yes, you did. Looks like it will be Ariana and Lawson, the second.”

“Perfect.” He drags my body closer still, his lips moving to my ear. “Now when is it appropriate to kick everyone out so I can take you to bed?”

At this, I do laugh. And I kiss him, getting so caught up in the moment, I almost forget about everyone else. That is until Santiago speaks.

“Seriously, Montgomery, get off my sister while you’re in front of me. This is fucking weird.”

Judge chuckles, reluctantly pulling away. The heat between us never quite dissipates, but we spend the rest of the evening with our family and friends. And I know without a doubt, I’ve never been happier either.

27

Judge

Late the next morning, I check on Mercedes. I slipped out of bed with the sun, but she didn’t even stir. I know she must be exhausted. Like she said, her body is working hard to make two little humans. A boy and a girl. A bubble of something like happiness erupts in my chest at the thought. I close the door behind me, and she still doesn’t move. She’s in much the same position she was in when I left her earlier today, curled into where I was lying, her face on my pillow now, hand where my heart would be. She breathes quietly, expression relaxed, and it makes her look younger than she is.

I think about how she came to be here, in my house. In my keeping. How I took her from the compound bound and blindfolded. How I stripped her bare in every way and broke her in ways I didn’t intend to. I think about how strong she was throughout all of it. All the humiliations, the hurt, the sadness, the pain, the attacks. How strong she is. Stronger than me, I think. I don’t know if she realizes how much I learn from her as I consider how far she’s come. Who she is now. Those women at The Society wouldn’t recognize this Mercedes.