Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Harper

Grace’s first birthday arrived on a warm Saturday in early summer, the same season that had once carried us through an island vacation neither of us had expected to change everything.

“One year,” I said, watching Damian assemble a highchair decorated with far too many balloons for a child who wouldn’t remember any of it. “It feels impossible.”

“It feels exactly right,” he said. “Every single day of it.”

Lily had appointed herself party coordinator months in advance, insisting on a theme that combined, somehow, both unicorns and outer space, a combination that had become something of a family joke over the past year.

“She’s one,” Lily explained patiently to anyone who questioned the theme’s logic. “She can like whatever she wants.”

“She’s one,” I pointed out. “She doesn’t actually have opinions about party themes yet.”

“She will. And when she does, she’ll thank me.”

Nobody argued further. Some battles, we’d learned, weren’t worth fighting against an eight-year-old’s unwavering confidence.

The backyard filled gradually with family throughout the afternoon — Victoria arriving with an elaborately wrapped gift and considerably more warmth than she’d carried a year earlier, Richard settling comfortably beside Grace’s highchair with the patient devotion of a grandfather determined to make up for years of absence, Ethan arriving with his girlfriend Claire, someone he’d met through mutual friends months earlier, someone who seemed to bring out a steadiness in him that continued surprising all of us pleasantly.

“You look happy,” I told him, watching him laugh at something Claire said near the dessert table.

“I am happy,” Ethan said, something genuine and unguarded in his expression. “Actually happy, not performing it for everyone’s benefit.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Therapy helped. Claire helped too, honestly. But mostly I think I just finally learned how to want good things for other people instead of resenting them for having what I wanted.”

“That’s real growth, Ethan.”

“Feels like it, most days.” He glanced toward Grace, currently attempting to eat cake with her entire fist rather than any reasonable utensil. “She’s lucky, you know. Growing up in a family that actually tries this hard.”

“We all got lucky,” I said. “Every single one of us.”

Damian

Watching Grace attempt to blow out a single candle, with considerably more help from Lily than actual lung capacity, I felt something settle permanently and completely in my chest, gratitude threading through every part of this ordinary, beautiful afternoon.

Mason approached partway through the celebration, offering congratulations along with a quiet update about the Hensley partnership continuing to flourish beyond initial projections.

“Business is good,” he said. “Better than good, actually. Between Ethan’s contributions and Richard’s renewed involvement, we’re operating stronger than we have in years.”

“Family business,” I said, watching Richard laugh at something Lily said, genuine and unguarded in ways I’d rarely witnessed during my childhood. “Actual family business, finally.”

“Feels different now,” Mason agreed. “Better.”

Later that evening, once guests had gradually departed and Grace had been settled peacefully into bed, exhausted from an entire day of attention and cake, Harper and I found ourselves alone on the balcony, the same quiet space where so many important conversations between us had unfolded over the past several years.

“Good day?” Harper asked, settling against my side.

“The best kind,” I said, echoing sentiment we’d shared countless times before, though the words never lost their genuine weight. “Watching everyone gathered together, actually happy, actually present. I don’t think I ever expected this, back when everything started.”

“Neither did I,” Harper admitted. “I came into your life planning destruction, remember.”

“I remember.”

“I think about that sometimes. How different everything could have turned out, if either of us had made different choices along the way.”

“I try not to dwell on that,” I said honestly. “I think focusing on what actually happened matters more than imagining alternatives that never occurred.”

Harper smiled, resting her head against my shoulder while stars gradually emerged across the clearing evening sky. “That’s very wise, for someone who spent years avoiding emotional reflection entirely.”

“I had an excellent teacher.”

“Just the one?”

“The only one that matters,” I said, pressing a gentle kiss against her temple.

We sat together quietly for a long while, comfortable silence settling between us the way it always did during moments like this, neither of us needing constant conversation to feel completely connected.

“Lily mentioned wanting to visit the island again,” Harper said eventually. “For Grace’s next birthday, maybe. Show her where everything really started.”

“I like that idea.”

“Even the bicycle disaster potential?”

“Especially that,” I said, laughing softly at the memory. “Some traditions are worth maintaining, regardless of dignity lost.”

Harper laughed too, the sound warm and familiar, settling comfortably into the quiet evening around us. “I love you, Damian. I don’t think I say that enough, actually. Not for everything you’ve given me. This family, this healing, this life I never expected to find.”

“You gave me exactly the same thing,” I said. “I don’t think either of us fully understands how much we saved each other, honestly. Not completely.”

“Maybe we don’t need to understand it completely,” Harper said. “Maybe just appreciating it, every single day, matters more than fully understanding every piece of how we got here.”

“That sounds right,” I agreed, pulling her closer as evening settled fully into night around us.