Page 105 of The Ethics Of Desire
But then I caught her glancing at her phone again, that familiar shadow crossing her face. Even here, surrounded by celebration and community, part of her was thinking about the family who should be here, who should be meeting their grandchild in three months.
“Hey,” I said softly, catching her chin with my finger. “You okay?”
She nodded, but I saw the truth in her eyes. The joy was real, but so was the grief. They lived side by side in her now, and maybe they always would.
“I just wish…” she started, then stopped.
“I know.” I pressed my forehead against hers. “And maybe someday they’ll surprise us. But if they don’t, we have this. We have Atlas, Carmen, Zara, and your sister. We also have my parents and this little one.” I touched her belly. “We have a family, baby.”
She took a shaky breath and nodded, leaning into me.
As I held her there, our chosen family around us and our child growing between us, I realised something. This wasn’t the end of our story, it was just the end of the beginning.
The part where we learnt that love isn’t about finding someone who completes you. It’s about finding someone brave enough to build something new with you, even when the foundation is shaky, even when you’re both still learning how to be whole.
The ethics of desire, I thought as she settled back into my arms. Maybe that was it. Maybe choosing love, choosing authenticity, choosing each other every single day despite our fears and scars and the family members who turned away, maybe that was the most moral thing we would ever do.
THE END.
