Page 77 of Silver Fox's Secret Triplets
The question surprised her. She straightened, considering her answer. "I think I am. Or I'm getting there."
"Good."
I moved around the kitchen with an ease that surprised me. Three weeks ago, I couldn't have imagined myself here, setting the table while Sammy colored pictures of dinosaurs and Chrissy built towers with blocks. Elena sat in her high chair, babbling to herself as she worked on picking up pieces of cereal.
"You're different here," Ivy said.
"Different how?"
"Calmer. More… present."
I paused in my preparation of the salad, thinking about her words. "I feel different. I feel like I've been holding my breath for years, and now I can finally exhale."
She nodded, understanding passing between us without need for explanation. "I know that feeling."
"Do you regret it? Coming back?"
"No." Her answer came quickly, without hesitation. "I regret the years we lost. I regret the secrets and the running and the way I handled everything. But I don't regret being here now."
"Neither do I."
We ate dinner together, the five of us around the table that had once felt too big for just me. Now it felt exactly right. The triplets chattered about their day, sharing stories that made no sense but delighted them anyway. Ivy helped Elena with her sippy cup while I cut up Sammy's chicken into smaller pieces.
This was what I'd been missing. Not the boardroom victories or the strategic wins, but the simple act of being needed by people who mattered. Of being part of something bigger than myself.
After dinner, I helped get the kids ready for bed while Ivy cleaned up the kitchen. The routine had become natural, developed over the past several days without conscious planning. Sammy insisted I read him three stories. Chrissy wanted me to check under her bed for monsters. Elena fell asleep in my arms before I could even get her into her crib.
When I came back downstairs, Ivy was standing by the window, looking out at the garden. I moved behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, and she leaned back against my chest.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Everything. Nothing." She turned in my arms to face me. "I never thought I'd see you with them. Making dinner, reading bedtime stories, picking out juice cups in the grocery store."
"I never thought I'd want to be here."
"And now?"
"Now I can't imagine being anywhere else."
She reached up to touch my face, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "We're really doing this, aren't we? Building something new."
"We are."
"It scares me."
"It scares me too." I kissed her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair. "But I'm done running from things that scare me."
I hugged her to my chest so tight she wriggled to get free and when she looked up at me I said, "I want to make peace with your father."
Ivy tensed in my arms. "Duncan?—"
"I know what you're going to say. I know he's angry, and I know he has every right to be. But I want to try. For the sake of the family we're building."
She pulled back to look at me, studying my face. "He's not going to make it easy."
"I don't expect him to."
"He might never forgive you."
