Page 163 of Nine Week Nanny
“I’ve purchased a home on the Battery in Charleston,” I said. “Sloane is already living there, and Lennon is registered to begin third grade in Charleston this August. Lennon and I will be moving there permanently at the end of the summer. My next hospital project is in Mt. Pleasant, just across the bridge from downtown Charleston.”
The judge nods once, then glances at Warren. “And the prior employment/relationship guardrails? This court previously required live-out care and no romantic relationship during the guardianship.”
Warren rises. “For the record, Your Honor: Ms. Brennan’s employment ended in September. A replacement nanny began the next morning. Since that date, Ms. Brennan has not been employed by Mr. Carrigan in any capacity. Their personal relationship resumed months later, after the emergency matters concluded. We’ve submitted letters from Elite Nanny Services confirming the separation of employment and from Ms. Brennan’s current employer documenting her independent role. In Charleston, the plan provides school-based after-care. Ms. Brennan will not be in a paid childcare role.”
The judge turns to the guardian ad litem. “Ms. Black?”
Dana Black folds her hands. “Confirmed, Your Honor. I reviewed the timeline and conducted multiple home visits. There are no boundary concerns. Lennon is thriving. The Charleston plan is appropriate and stable.”
“Noted for the record,” the judge said, returning to the file.
He shuffles another stack of papers and says something under his breath to the court reporter.
“Mr. Carrigan,” he says, voice steady. “The court finds that you have provided a safe, stable, and nurturing home for Lennon López. Guardianship has been consistent for nearly ten months. The guardian ad litem reports positive development, excellent care, and a strong father-child bond.”
Sloane squeezes my hand under the table. My pulse hammers, but I keep my eyes on the bench.
The judge clears his throat. “Therefore, it is the ruling of this court that your petition to adopt is granted. Effective immediately, Lennon López shall be known legally as Lennon López Carrigan.”
For a second, the words hang in the air. My chest tightens, vision blurring. Lennon turns to me, necklace glinting, and whispers, “So I’m yours now? For real?”
I pull him into my arms.
“For real, buddy. Forever.” My voice cracks on the last word.
The judge smiles faintly before rapping his gavel. “Congratulations, Mr. Carrigan and Lennon.”
Applause breaks out behind us. Valerie dabs her eyes, and Hart gives me a sharp nod. Dana Black smiles warmly before packing her messenger bag and walking out.
Warren lingers near the aisle as people file out. He shakes my hand firmly. “Congratulations, Pope.”
Then he glances at Sloane with a polite smile. “I’m glad to see everything worked out.”
“Me, too, Warren. Thank you for all you did,” Sloane says, her voice warm as she hugs him briefly.
Outside, the air is crisp, and sunlight bounces off the marble steps. A few people stream past, but there are no cameras, no reporters. Val and Hart had to run to the car, leaving just the three of us.
"I’m Lennon López Carrigan!” he shouts, darting down the steps with his arms stretched like airplane wings.
Sloane laughs with him, her hair catching the light. God, she’s beautiful. My chest aches watching her. She deserves more than thank-yous. She deserves the world.
And I want to give it to her.
I reach into my jacket pocket, fingers brushing the teal velvet box that’s burned a hole there all morning. My throat tightens.
“Sloane.” My voice comes out rougher than I intend. She turns, brows lifted.
I step closer, pulling out the box, flipping it open, and dropping to one knee. The ring gleams in the winter sun, simple and perfect. “He’s not the only one I want to make a Carrigan today. Marry me.”
Her lips part, breath catching. “Pope?—”
“I don’t want to waste another second pretending I don’t need you. You’ve been it from the start.” My chest heaves. “I love you. Will you be my wife?”
For a heartbeat, the world holds still. Then her eyes shine with tears, and she nods, whispering, “Oh my god.”
Her hands fly to her mouth, clasped together like a prayer. “Yes. Yes!”
An overwhelming relief floods me. After I slip the ring onto her finger, she throws her arms around my neck. I kiss her, tasting salt and sunlight and every promise we’ve been too stubborn to make until now.
