Page 145 of Through the Storm

“God, Katy,” he murmurs, voice rough. “I love you too.”

There’s no hesitation in his tone, just honesty.

Tears sting my eyes. “I didn’t mean to—” I start.

He shakes his head gently. “Don’t take it back.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I whisper.

He shifts carefully so he doesn’t wake the baby, reaching out to hook his finger in mine. “I love you,” he says again, quieter this time. “I loved you back when we danced on the beach in the middle of a storm, and I love you now. I just didn’t know what to do with it before.”

My throat closes. I press my free hand to his chest, right over the baby’s back, feeling both of them breathe.

He smiles at that. Small. Real. Like he’s afraid if he moves too much the moment might break.

“But I do now,” he declares.

We sit there like that—no rush, no noise—just the three of us breathing together.

And for the first time in my life, I’m not wondering if Ben could ever be mine.

It feels pretty obvious.

He’s always been mine.

The front door opens before I even hear the knock.

“I brought food,” Ella announces, already crying.

Ben rolls his eyes. “Of course you did.”

She steps inside, holding two paper bags and Danny’s leash. Danny barrels forward like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

“Oh my God,” Ella sobs. “Oh my God, he’s so small.”

“Ella.” My voice softens. “You saw him yesterday.”

“Iknow,” she wails. “That doesn’t make it stop.”

Danny reaches us first. His nose twitches, and he lets out a low, reverent whine.

And then he starts licking the baby’s feet.

“Danny,” Ben says calmly. “Please do not baptize our child with your tongue.”

Danny ignores him. Mini-Ben squirms, then traitorously lets out the tiniest pleased little noise.

Ella makes a choked little sound. “He likes him. Oh my God, heloves him. They’re going to be best friends.” She drops the food on the table and rushes over, immediately crouching next to me. Her face crumples again. “I love him,” she sobs. “I can’t help it. I just love him so much.”

Ben sighs. “Can you please stop crying every time you come over?”

“I literally cannot,” she says. “This is my entire personality now.”

I laugh. “You’re being very brave about it.”

She sniffles and wipes her face with her sleeve. “I brought lasagna. And salad. And garlic bread. And cookies. I didn’t know what you’d want, so I brought everything.”

Ben looks at the bags. “Thanks. I’m starving.”