Page 91 of After the Rain

"For real this time."

Ezra leaned down to kiss Cooper's forehead. "Sweet dreams, kiddo."

"I love you, Papa Ezra."

The casual use of "Papa" made Ezra's eyes fill with tears.

After Cooper fell asleep, Ezra and I ended up on the front porch swing that Jazz had installed. The summer evening was perfect—fireflies dancing in the yard, the sound of our neighbors' lives continuing around us, the peace that comes from knowing you're exactly where you belong.

"I love you," I said, the words carrying new weight after nearly losing everything. "I love our family. I love the life we've built together."

"Even after everything we went through?"

"Especially after everything we went through. The fight was worth it, Ezra."

I was quiet for a moment, thinking about the secret I'd been carrying, the surprise that had been eating at me for days now. With the custody battle behind us and our family officially recognized, it was time to take the next step.

"There's something I need to tell you," I said, taking his hand. "Something I've been planning."

Ezra turned to face me fully, his expression curious but cautious. "What kind of something?"

"Remember the Victorian house? The one I showed you?"

"Of course I remember. You told me you'd been dreaming about our future there."

"Well, I wasn't just dreaming anymore. I've been working with Jazz and the bank. All those new contracts from people who supported us through the trial? They paid better than I expected. Combined with selling this house..." I paused, my heart racing with excitement and nerves. "We can afford to make it real, Ezra. We can actually move to the house."

His eyes widened. "Wade, are you serious?"

"Dead serious. I've been finishing the renovation work, getting everything ready. Cooper's room is painted in those blues and greens we picked out. The kitchen is complete. Even started marking out where we'll put the garden beds you wanted."

"Does Cooper know?"

"That's the best part. He has no idea. All those weekend projects I've been working on? He thinks I've just been doing contract work. But tomorrow, I want to surprise him. Show him his new room and everything.”

Ezra was quiet for a long moment, and I felt my stomach clench with sudden worry. "You do want this, right? I mean, I know we talked about it, but if you've changed your mind?—"

"Wade." He cut me off with a kiss that tasted like promise and joy and the future we'd fought so hard to secure. "Of course I want this. I want everything we talked about in that backyard. I want to plant vegetables and build treehouses and make that house into our home."

"So you're in?"

"I'm in. We're in. All the way."

Tomorrow we'd show Cooper his new home. Tomorrow we'd start building the life we'd dreamed about in that backyard, surrounded by oak trees and possibility.

A year ago, I'd been living someone else's life, going through the motions, slowly dying inside. Now I knew exactly who I was and what I wanted: this man beside me, our son down the hall, and the home we were going to build together.

The next morning brought the kind of peaceful domestic routine I'd dreamed about during the darkest moments of our custody battle. Cooper bounced around the kitchen while Ezra made his lunch, both of them completely unaware of the surprise waiting for them.

"Dad, can I have extra cookies today?" Cooper asked, watching Ezra cut his sandwich into dinosaur shapes.

"It's Papa Ezra's call," I said, grinning at how naturally Cooper moved between us for different permissions.

"Papa Ezra's the soft touch anyway," Cooper added with seven-year-old confidence.

"I heard that," Ezra said, but he added an extra cookie to the lunch box anyway.

I caught Ezra's eye across the kitchen and felt that familiar flutter of excitement about our secret. Tonight, after school, we'd take Cooper to see his new home. Tonight, we'd start the next chapter of our story.

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