Page 108 of The Secrets We Built Together

"Speaking of help," Ethan said, "I should mention that DCFS officially closed your case yesterday. Everything's been finalized. You're free and clear."

I felt a weight I hadn't even realized I was still carrying lift from my shoulders. "Really? It's over?"

"It's over," he confirmed. "You did it, Blake. All of you."

Amelia chose that moment to babble something reaching out for the soap display again only to erupt in a belly laugh when Xander spinned her away. Ethan's expression softened as he watched the interaction.

"She's lucky to have you both," he said simply.

"We're the lucky ones," Xander replied, his voice thick with emotion.

A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the sounds of the festival around us—children laughing, music playing, the cheerful chaos of a community celebrating together.

"Well," Ethan said finally, "I should let you get back to enjoying the festival. But Blake?" He caught my eye. "I'm really happy for you. You deserve all of this."

After he walked away, I stood there for a moment, processing the interaction.

"That went better than expected," Xander observed, shifting Amelia to a more comfortable position in his arms.

"Much better," I agreed. "I think we're all finally where we're supposed to be."

We continued our walk through the festival, stopping to watch a puppet show that had Amelia absolutely transfixed, sampling honey sticks from the local beekeepers, and letting Amelia pet the therapy dogs from the animal rescue booth. Every interaction felt easy, natural. It was almost like we'd been doingthis family thing our whole lives instead of just figuring it out as we went.

"I should probably head to the clinic soon," Xander said as we approached the main stage where a bluegrass band was setting up. "We have some new patients checking in this afternoon, and I want to make sure they're settling in okay."

I nodded, though I felt a small pang of disappointment. These lazy weekend mornings together had become precious to me, time when we could just be a family without the pressures of work or responsibilities intruding.

"How long do you think you'll be?" I asked, taking Amelia from him as she started to squirm.

"A few hours, probably. Just long enough to do initial consultations and make sure everyone's comfortable." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then another to Amelia's. "You two could stay here, enjoy the festival. I'll meet you back at home for dinner."

"Actually," I said, an idea forming, "I think I might drive into Blue Point Bay. Get those art supplies I was talking about. I'm feeling inspired, and I don't want to lose the momentum."

His eyes lit up with understanding. "The new technique you mentioned?"

"Exactly. I want to try capturing all of this"—I gestured at the festival around us—"while it's still fresh in my mind. All these colors, this energy..."

Xander's smile was so proud it made my chest ache. His arm wrapped around my waist as he pulled me close, kissing me softly before he said, "I love seeing you like this. So excited about your work again."

"I love feeling like this again," I admitted. "Like I have something to say, and the tools to say it."

He kissed me again, soft and sweet, right there in the middle of the festival crowd. When we broke apart, I was breathless, still amazed that this man was mine, that this life was ours.

"Go create something beautiful," he murmured against my lips.

"I will," I promised. "We already did."

As I watched him walk away, Amelia babbling contentedly in my arms, I felt that familiar surge of creative energy building inside me. The festival swirled around us in a kaleidoscope of color and sound, and I could already see how I wanted to capture it—bright acrylics for the base, building up layers of joy and community and belonging, then those final oil details to make it all feel real and tangible and true.

Just like this life we'd built. Bright and bold and absolutely, perfectly ours.

Chapter 39

Blake

Istared at the calendar spreadsheet on my phone in disbelief. Every slot was filled in with names. Every. Single. One.

"This can't be right," I muttered, scrolling through the days again.

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