Page 39 of Owned By Knuckles
"True." He grins. "But Pope promised. No calls, no emergencies, nothing that can't wait until we're back. This trip is just us and the girls. Family time."
Family time. Eight years ago, I didn't have a family. Now I have more than I ever dreamed possible.
"I love you," I tell him, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. "Thank you for giving me this life."
"Baby, you gave yourself this life. You're the one who ran. The one who chose to fight instead of staying. The one who built all of this." He gestures around our bedroom, at the life we've created together. "I just helped along the way."
"You did more than help."
"Maybe. But you did the hard part. You survived. Everything else is just details."
The twins come running back, dragging their small suitcases behind them.
"We're ready!" Ruby announces.
"Can we go now?" Lily asks.
"Not for another two hours, remember?" I tell them. "We need to eat lunch first."
"But I'm not hungry," Ruby protests.
"You're always hungry," Lily counters.
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Girls." Ryan's voice cuts through their argument. "How about we make sandwiches together? Then we can eat and be ready to go right on time."
"Okay!" They chorus together and run toward the kitchen.
Ryan and I follow at a slower pace, his hand finding mine..
"Think we forgot anything?" I ask.
"Probably. But that's what gift shops are for."
We make sandwiches together, all four of us crowded in the kitchen that's seen countless family meals. The twins chatter non-stop about everything they want to see and do. Ryan listens patiently, promising to take them everywhere they want to go.
I watch them together and feel my chest tighten with emotion. This man who grew up without a family, who spent his childhood unwanted and unchosen, is the best father I could have imagined for my daughters. He's patient and playful and protective in all the ways that matter.
He shows them every single day that they're wanted. That they're chosen. That they're loved unconditionally.
And they adore him for it.
After lunch, we load the car with our suitcases. The twins buckle themselves into their car seats, still chattering excitedly. Ryan checks everything three times. The doors are locked, the lights are off, the security system is armed.
"Ready?" he asks, sliding into the driver's seat.
"Ready," I confirm from the passenger seat.
"Disneyland Paris, here we come!" the twins shout from the back.
As we pull out of the driveway, I look back at our house. The home we've built together. Three bedrooms, a yard where the girls play, a garage full of Ryan's motorcycle gear, a kitchen where we make family dinners.
It's everything I never knew I wanted. Everything I didn't think I deserved.
And it's mine.
