Page 74 of Last Wish Wedding

Mac tried to envision dinosaur wallpaper or space-themed decorations, things he vaguely remembered wanting as a child. But Noah preferred the ocean. Sharks. A marine biologist in the making, perhaps.

He wandered through the upper floor and saw the house through new eyes. No photographs on the walls, no mementos displayed on shelves. Kelsey would probably want to soften the modernity with her personal touches, as she had in the tiny cottage. Throw pillows. Family photos. The kind of homey clutter that made a house feel lived in.

A home.

He’d existed in this pristine space for years, leaving no mark, as if prepared to disappear at any moment. Which was exactly the plan.

In his closet, Mac pulled out a duffel bag and began filling it mechanically. Jeans. T-shirts. He could come back and get a change of clothes when he wanted, so, just enough for a few days.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror, the gold band glinting on his left hand as he reached for a sweater.

Married. To a woman with a child. Living in domestic harmony in a cottage by the sea.

It wasn’t real, he reminded himself. Or rather, it was legally real but emotionally temporary. He was still leaving. The Nereid was ready, the maps prepared, the adventure planned. Once Truman passed and Noah’s custody was secure, Mac would be gone. The endless horizon and solitude of the open ocean was his future, not family dinners and homework supervision.

Wasn’t it?

Mac zipped the duffel with more force than necessary. He was helping Kelsey and Noah and fulfilling his grandfather’s dying wish. That was all.

He locked up the house and tossed the duffel in his car.

As Mac drove back toward the cottage, the pizza boxes warm on the passenger seat, he realized he was nervous about all this. After all he’d done in his life, a seven-year-old boy made him anxious. He went over potential answers to questions he thought Noah would ask and vowed to stay casual, calm. Letting Kelsey take the lead when he didn’t know what to say.

He was out of his depth, navigating unfamiliar waters without a chart. But for now, he had pizza with extra pineapple. And maybe that was a good place to start.

The savory aroma of pizza filled the cottage’s small kitchen as Mac set the boxes on the table. Noah was already there, plate in hand, practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Did you get the pineapple?” he asked, bouncing on his toes to peer into the box Mac opened.

“Extra pineapple,” Mac confirmed, revealing the pizza laden with golden chunks. “Just to make up for lost time.”

Noah’s face lit up. “Awesome!” He reached for a slice before Kelsey could even get plates distributed.

“Noah David,” Kelsey admonished gently, “hands, please. And we sit before we eat.”

“Sorry,” Noah mumbled, darting to the sink to wash his hands. He then slid into his usual chair at the kitchen table.

Mac took the seat opposite while Kelsey glided with practiced efficiency, getting napkins, pouring drinks, and finally settling in her own chair.

“This is so good,” Noah declared around a mouthful of pizza.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey,” Kelsey reminded him, though her expression was indulgent.

Noah swallowed dramatically. “Sorry, Mom.” Then, turning to Mac with solemn formality: “This pizza is excellent, thank you very much.”

Mac couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re very welcome.”

The tension in Mac’s shoulders eased as the meal progressed. They were still the same people they’d been before, Kelsey with her quiet strength, Noah with his boundless energy and curiosity. The wedding rings and marriage license hadn’t fundamentally altered who they were.

As Noah’s initial hunger abated, his questions began. “So, are we going to live in Mac’s house now that you guys are married?”

Kelsey glanced at Mac, a silent conversation passing between them.

“We could,” Mac said carefully. “If that’s something you both want. It would need some changes first, though. New furniture, maybe different colors. To make it feel like home. You would need to pick out your own room.”

Noah’s eyes widened. “I get to pick out my own room?”

“Absolutely. Any room you want, except mine. Ours,” he corrected, glancing at Kelsey. “And we could decorate it however you like.”