Chapter 77

The sun peeked through the tall windows, casting soft gold across tangled blankets and the half-finished bottle of wine on the coffee table. The city below was beginning to stir, but inside the penthouse, the air still hummed with the heat of the night before—whispers, laughter, and stolen touches now folded neatly into memory.

Emma stirred first, blinking against the light and the faint ache in her cheeks from smiling too much. Her hand rested on Abigail’s thigh, the soft beat of her own pulse still fluttering from the echo of the night’s last kiss.

“Good morning,” came a sleepy voice beside her.

Emma turned her head slightly to find Megan stretching like a cat, her curls wild and eyes still heavy-lidded. Ashley was curled against her shoulder, one arm draped lazily across her waist.

“Did we fall asleep on the couch?” Megan asked, voice raspy and amused.

Emma nodded, stifling a yawn. “All four of us. Like teenagers after a sleepover.”

“Best adult sleepover ever,” Ashley mumbled, her face buried in Megan’s side.

Abigail, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open and muttered, “I vaguely remember someone declaring lap-climbing as a spiritual experience.”

Emma groaned, face falling into her hands. “Please don’t remind me.”

“Oh no,” Megan grinned, brushing a kiss across Ashley’s forehead. “We’re absolutely reminding you. That was the highlight of my year.”

Emma peeked through her fingers, face flushed but smiling. “I don’t even know what came over me.”

Abigail leaned in and whispered with a smirk, “I did.”

Emma swatted her playfully. “Stop.”

Ashley sat up slowly, stretching with a satisfied sigh. Megan leaned over and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, her fingertips gently tracing small circles along her arm.

“I don’t know about y’all,” Ashley murmured, brushing her nose softly against Megan’s temple, “but I could murder a cup of coffee.”

“Same,” Megan said, her voice low and affectionate. She tucked a piece of Ashley’s hair behind her ear, then added with a wink, “And maybe a giant waffle.”

Abigail stood, brushing down her oversized T-shirt. “Alright, kitchen’s open. But fair warning—I make strong coffee and stronger opinions.”

Emma slid off the couch and padded after her. As Abigail reached the counter, Emma walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her cheek against Abigail’s shoulder.

“You make coffee. I’ll start the eggs,” Emma murmured.

Abigail smiled, reaching back to squeeze her hand. “Deal.”

Ashley and Megan followed, fingers laced together as they moved like a lazy little team, bumping hips and trading jokes as they wandered into the kitchen. Megan leaned in and nuzzled Ashley’s cheek before stealing a kiss while they waited on the coffee to brew.

As the sound of eggs sizzling filled the space, Emma leaned back against the counter, sipping from her mug and stealing glances at Abigail—who, despite bedhead and hoodie, still looked like a dream.

“You’re staring again,” Abigail said softly, not looking up.

Emma didn’t stop. “Can you blame me?”

“Nope.”

Emma smiled to herself, then said quietly, “Hey… can I have a kiss?”

Abigail turned, her eyes soft as she stepped closer. “Always.”

She leaned in and kissed her—slow and sweet, just enough to make Emma smile into it.

Emma lingered, then bit her lip. “Can I have another one?”

Abigail chuckled but obliged, brushing her lips gently against Emma’s again.

“And another one?” Emma asked, already smiling.

Abigail leaned in again, this time taking her time with the kiss—lingering until Emma let out the softest little sigh.

Ashley clutched her chest playfully. “I can’t handle y’all before caffeine.”

Megan raised her coffee like a toast, then turned to Ashley and kissed her softly on the lips, resting her hand on the side of her neck. “Love looks good on all of us.”

Emma leaned her head on Abigail’s shoulder, clearly content. “Feels even better.”

Breakfast unfolded in cozy layers—hot plates, warm coffee, sleepy giggles, and the soft sound of the city waking up around them. The flirty tension of the night before had mellowed into something even more magnetic: ease, affection, and maybe the start of something new.

They sat around the island, barefoot and happy, passing the syrup and talking about everything and nothing.

They were halfway through breakfast—coffee mugs half full, syrup-streaked plates scattered on the island—when Megan set down her fork and tilted her head curiously.

“So… if it’s okay to ask,” she said gently, eyes flicking between Emma and Abigail, “did you two do IVF?”

Emma blinked mid-sip of her cider, then glanced over at Abigail.

There was a pause—not tense, just quiet—before Abigail gave a soft chuckle, reaching for Emma’s hand.

“No IVF,” she said. “It was… actually a surprise.”

Ashley raised an eyebrow. “A surprise?”

Emma nodded, a little laugh escaping her. “Yeah. We weren’t exactly trying. It just… happened.”

Abigail gave Emma’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We were shocked at first. A little scared, honestly. But it didn’t take long to realize it was something we wanted. Something meant for us.”

Megan’s expression softened as she leaned in. “That’s kind of beautiful. Like the universe decided for you.”

Abigail shrugged with a smile. “Maybe it did.”

Ashley looked between them, then back at Abigail. “So… how?”

Abigail paused for a beat before answering, her voice calm and steady. “I’m intersex,” she said. “I still produce viable sperm, and apparently… it only took one time.”

Emma laughed, blushing. “One very good time.”

Everyone at the table burst into laughter, the mood light and full of warmth.

Megan smiled, then set down her glass. “That’s amazing. Really. And… I guess this is as good a time as any to say—I’m also intersex.”

The room grew quiet again, but this time with shared understanding instead of surprise.

Emma looked at her with a gentle smile. “Thank you for sharing that.”

Megan nodded. “It took me a long time to say that out loud comfortably. But seeing how open you two are? I don’t know. It just felt right.”

Abigail’s expression softened. “That means a lot. Really. I know how hard it can be.”

Megan reached over and squeezed her hand across the table. “We’re all just trying to live honestly. And love loudly.”

Ashley, ever the softie when the moment called for it, leaned in and kissed Megan’s cheek. “Loudly and beautifully.”

Megan rested her chin on her hand, smiling. “Well, however it happened, you two look good together. Like… really good. Happy.”

Abigail nodded, her gaze soft as she looked at Emma. “Thanks. We really appreciate that.”

Emma squeezed her fingers and smiled. “We really do.”

Ashley grinned. “Yeah, well… if this is what surprises look like, sign me up.”

Plates were nearly empty, coffee was cooling, and the conversation had drifted into that quiet space where people speak softer—not because they have to, but because they want to be heard.

Megan was swirling the last of her coffee when she glanced at Emma and Abigail again, eyes soft, thoughtful. She smiled at them—at the curve of Emma’s hand resting on her small bump, at the way Abigail’s thumb was tracing circles on the back of her hand—and then slowly turned her gaze to Ashley beside her.

She hesitated, just for a moment.

Then she asked, “Do you ever think about having kids?”

Ashley blinked, clearly surprised, but not in a bad way. Her expression shifted—amused at first, then open. Curious. “Whoa,” she said with a small smile. “That came out of nowhere.”

Megan tucked her hair behind her ear and gave a small shrug, her voice quieter now. “Sorry, I just… seeing them, hearing how it happened for them… it made me wonder. I’ve never really asked you before.”

Ashley leaned back slightly, considering the question. Her fingers reached out, instinctively finding Megan’s hand on the table. “I think… I never saw it for myself growing up. So I never pictured it. But with you?”

She squeezed Megan’s hand gently.

“Yeah,” she said simply. “If it were with you, I think I could want that. One day.”

Megan’s breath caught just a little, her eyes softening. “Really?”

Ashley gave her a warm, steady smile. “Really. You’d be an amazing mom. And I think we’d figure it out together, just like we always do.”

Across the table, Emma blinked once, twice—then suddenly fanned her face with both hands as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh no,” she sniffled, “don’t mind me. It’s just the hormones.”

Abigail smiled gently and rubbed her back. “Baby…”

Emma wiped her cheek, laughing through the tears. “They’re just so sweet. And honest. And now I’m crying into my coffee, and I don’t even care.”

Megan reached over with a napkin, passing it with a grin. “Honestly, this might be the best brunch I’ve ever had.”

Abigail chuckled, leaning into Emma. “Let it out, babe. We’re all about the full heart energy this morning.”

Megan leaned into Ashley’s shoulder, and Ashley kissed the top of her head. “No promises,” Megan whispered, her smile still lingering. “But I think I like the sound of that. One day.”

The room went quiet again, wrapped in something soft and golden and full of possibility.