A companionable silence followed, broken only by the delighted shrieks of Chloe and Gabe as their moat collapsed with dramatic flair.
Jack shifted slightly, opening the attachment in the email from Linda and Tom. It was a photo from Amanda’s graduation—one he hadn’t seen in years. She stood in front of the university auditorium, cap tilted back, her smile wide and radiant, one hand on her diploma, the other clutching Jack’s arm. A sudden catch in his breath and the tightening in his chest betrayed how deeply it struck him. "I’d forgotten how proud she looked that day."
Claire took it gently, studying the young woman in the frame. "She was beautiful and Chloe looks like her."
"She was," Jack agreed. "And I think she’d like you."
The comment took Claire by surprise, but she met his gaze. "I hope so."
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the park, Jack turned to Claire. "This might sound crazy—and no, it’s not a proposal—but..."
Jack paused, heart thudding just a little louder in his chest. He glanced toward the kids, then back at Claire, grounding himself in the quiet certainty of the moment. "I want to build something real with you. Not just because it feels right, but because of how steady you’ve been—how kind. You make things feel possible again. Something lasting."
Claire’s breath hitched. "I want that, too."
The kids ran toward them, Chloe waving a stick like a flag. "We finished the kingdom! And now we need ice cream!"
Jack stood, helping Claire up. As the four of them walked toward the ice cream truck at the edge of the park, Jack leaned toward her and whispered, "Whatever comes next, I’m all in."
Claire looked up at him, the fading light turning his expression golden. "Me too."
Their joined hands swung gently between them as they followed the children—together, toward a horizon that felt a lot like home.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Claire
Claire’sphonevibratedonthe countertop, slicing through the peaceful rhythm of the morning like a sudden gust of wind. Her stomach tightened, a ripple of unease settling low as her hand hovered above the screen, the sudden hum disrupting the soft murmur of conversation and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. She glanced at the caller ID, feeling an immediate knot form in her stomach, a wave of dread tightening her chest.
A flash of memory surfaced—Gabe sitting on the porch steps with his backpack still on, asking why his dad didn’t show. Her heart clenched at the recollection, the sting of that day as vivid as ever. Other memories surged—missed birthdays, unreturned calls, and Gabe’s tearful eyes.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the phone. But this time, she steadied herself. The weight of uncertainty was still there, but now it mingled with a quiet strength she hadn’t had before—a strength born of rebuilding, of Jack’s steady presence, and of knowing she could protect her son better now than she ever could then.
"Derek," she murmured, meeting Jack’s concerned gaze across the breakfast table.
Jack raised an eyebrow, his eyes immediately attentive. "Everything alright?"
Claire forced a smile, lifting the phone hesitantly. "Guess we're about to find out."
She swiped to answer, bracing herself. "Hello, Derek."
"Claire," Derek's voice carried a familiar edge of impatience. "We need to talk about Gabe."
She inhaled sharply, her heart thudding. "I'm listening."
"We need clearer boundaries," Derek said bluntly. "This back-and-forth isn’t working anymore, and I’ve been waiting to hear from you about visiting Gabe."
Claire glanced at Jack, who subtly nodded in silent encouragement. She cleared her throat. "I agree, boundaries are important. But what exactly are you proposing?"
Derek paused, clearly taken aback by her calm tone. She could almost hear him recalibrating his approach, the hesitation palpable in the quiet between them.
"Scheduled visits. More structured. Gabe needs consistency, and frankly, so do I."
Claire’s brow furrowed. She straightened her posture, her voice sharpening just slightly. "Before we get into specifics, Derek—why now?"
There was a pause.
"What do you mean?"
