Page 196 of The Thief

In our hotel room, we settle Henry Stephen in his portable crib, change into comfortable clothes, and collapse onto the bed like the exhausted parents we are.

"Long day," Freddie says, pulling me against his side.

"Good day though."

"The best kind."

I curl closer to him, one hand resting where our second child is growing, the other holding onto the man who turned my whole world upside down in the best possible way.

Tomorrow, we'll fly home to Dublin, back to our house with its garden and security systems and all the normal complications of daily life. Henry Stephen will toddle around, getting into everything while I battle morning sickness and Freddie pretends he's not already planning the baby's nursery.

But tonight, in this moment, surrounded by the quiet contentment that comes after celebration, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Loved. Protected. Home.

And that's enough. More than enough.

It's everything.