Page 93 of Code Name: Grit

I pressed a kiss to Bean’s forehead, inhaling that intoxicating baby scent. “Tell your mama she was right.”

Another knock, more hesitant this time. My mother opened the door to reveal Cassio, elegant in a charcoal suit, a spray of white roses in his hand.

“May I come in?” he asked, his eyes seeking mine.

“Of course.”

He entered slowly, as if uncertain of his welcome despite the months we’d spent building a relationship neither of us had dared imagine possible. I’d learned that, beyond the facade of power, my father was a man of unexpected depth—thoughtful, well-read, and haunted by the choices he’d made.

“Your mother asked me to bring these to you,” he said, offering me a bouquet that was made with white roses, my favorite. I caught a quick glance between my mother and father. In their eyes, I saw the same love I felt for Grit.

“I’ll take those for now,” said Summer.

“Your dress is beautiful,” he continued. “But not as beautiful as the woman wearing it.”

The words might have sounded like simple flattery from anyone else, but from him, they carried the weight of decades of absence, of all the moments he’d missed—birthdays and milestones, triumphs and heartbreaks.

“I have something for you,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “If you’ll accept it.”

He withdrew a small velvet box. Inside lay a delicate gold bracelet with a single charm—a loon in flight, crafted in gold with a tiny sapphire eye.

“It was my grandmother’s—your namesake,” he explained as I stared at it. “She wore it on her wedding day.”

My throat tightened. “Cassio…”

“You don’t have to wear it,” he added quickly.

I extended my wrist. “Would you?”

His fingers trembled as he fastened the clasp.

“We should go,” Dante said gently. “Drake’s probably wearing a path in the floor.”

I embraced my mother and Summer one last time before they departed to take their places for the ceremony. Then it was just Cassio, Dante, and me.

“Ready?” my father asked, offering his arm after Dante handed me the bouquet Summer had set on the table.

I took a deep breath. “Ready.”

The ceremony tookplace in the gazebo that overlooked Canada Lake. Wooden chairs arranged on the lawn in neat rows were filled with people who’d come to be my family—K19 team members and Drake’s parents, who had embraced me with an immediacy and warmth that still amazed me.

As I stood with my arm linked through Cassio’s, I caught my first glimpse of Drake waiting at the end of the aisle. He looked so handsome in his navy suit, shoulders squared, his recovery complete. After handing Bean to Lark, Dante slid between him and Tank.

“He’s a good man,” Cassio said quietly.

“The best,” I agreed.

The music shifted, and all heads turned. My mother and Summer proceeded first, each carrying a small bouquet matching mine.

When our turn came, I felt Cassio’s arm tense beneath my hand.

“I never thought I’d have this honor,” he whispered.

“Neither did I,” I admitted. “But I’m so glad we do.”

We began the walk together, each step closing the distance to my future. Drake’s eyes never left mine, his expression a mixture of awe and fierce joy that made my heart race. When we reached him, Cassio placed my hand in Drake’s, the symbolic gesture heavy with meaning.

“Take care of each other,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

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