Then she carefully begins loosening the edges of the cast, ensuring it lifts off from my skin without damaging the delicate shape. Rasmus helps her, his hands steady as he supports the bottom part.
When the cast comes free, I exhale slowly, watching as they place it gently on a nearby drying rack.
“Thank you for this,” I tell Rasmus as he returns to my side.
“You don’t have to thank me, Haisley.” His voice is low and serious. “I want to remembereverythingtoo.”
“We will, I promise.”
Daisy interrupts us. “That’s it! You’re all done for today. I’ll keep you posted on the progress of the cast, and once it’s ready, you can pick it up.”
We thank her and Rasmus helps me back to the dressing room. I tilt my head to look at Rasmus. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”
His lips twitch. “I’ll remind you of that next time I leave my hockey equipment in the hallway during the off-season.”
“Don’t push it, Westerholm.”
He presses a lingering kiss to my forehead. I rest my hand against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm. “Joking aside, I don’t know how you do it, but you always know exactly what I need. Even before I do.”
His arms draw me into his warmth. “I listen to everything you do and don’t say.”
Tipping my chin up, he meets me halfway, kissing my lips. It’s tender and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second.
When he pulls back, his brown eyes search mine. “Ready to go home?”
Home. It’s not a place anymore. It’s wherever we are together.
“Yeah, let’s go home.”
He actually bought the brownstone from my parents when he learned I didn’t own it. Because of course he did. That’s how my love is. And it’s also why I love him so dearly. Now and forever.
42
YOU’VE CHANGED MY LIFE IN WAYS I NEVER SAW COMING
RASMUS
A year later
Viktor’s first birthday
Viktor Jeremy Westerholm was born on July 30th, 2024, making us wait longer for his arrival. Named after his parents’ two greatest male influences in life, my grandpa Viktor and Haisley’s dad Jeremy, he was already set for greatness from the beginning. And I’m not saying that because he happens to be my kid. It’s just facts.
The past year has flown by in a blur of sleepless nights, first milestones, and baby giggles that make every exhaustion-fueled day worth it. It’s hard to believe that Viktor is already turning one today. That’s a full year of him changing right before our eyes. He went from a wrinkly newborn who could barely keep his brown eyes open to this wide-eyed, curious little tornado who keeps us on our toes.
He even took his first steps last month and knows how to saypapaandmama, the latter being his first word. You’d think he won the Cup with the way Haisley and I cheered hearing it. Buthow could we not? It was one of those moments that will forever be among my favorites.
Now, a few weeks later, our brownstone is filled with the people we love the most, all gathered to celebrate the little boy who changed our lives in ways I never could’ve imagined.
Balloons in shades of green, silver, and white float near the ceiling of the living room with a banner sayingHappy 1stBirthday, Viktor.There’s a ridiculous amount of food on the kitchen counters, courtesy of Gloria and tía Marisol, who took it upon themselves to cater the event.
Viktor, the man of the hour, sits in his highchair, his round eyes taking in everything. His light brown hair is sticking up in every which way, evidence of an earlier nap. He’s still waking up but happy to see all the faces he recognizes around him.
Jasper walks past him with Vivian. “Kid looks like he’s questioning all his life choices.”
“He’s one,” I deadpan. “I don’t know how much goes through someone’s head at that age.”
“Just wait until you turn two, it’s even worse,” Jasper jokingly whispers to my son, taking a Swedish oatmeal cookie from the coffee table.
