Chapter 5

“HAVE YOU BEEN TAKING YOUR MEDICATIONS?” Télyn’s doctor asked her.

Télyn nodded, giving her a thumbs-up from where she lay on the exam table. “Yes.”

“Iron once a day?”

“Yes.”

“One-a-day multivitamin?”

“Yes.”

The doctor nodded thoughtfully, checking everything off on the computer. The clicking of the keyboard filled the room. For a moment, that was the only sound.

“And I take all the over-the-counter stuff, too,” Télyn added, a little too quickly.

Her doctor hummed, eyes still on the screen. She paused. Long enough that Télyn shifted on the paper crinkling beneath her. Long enough that Télyn wondered if she’d missed something.

Then she looked up.

“What about your prenatal vitamin?”

“Of course,” Télyn said immediately. “Baby gets cranky when I don’t take that one.”

The doctor laughed, pushing her chair back and standing. She walked over to the table and gently lifted Télyn’s shirt, squeezing cool gel onto her fingertips before rubbing it over Télyn’s belly.

“Alright,” she said lightly, “let’s check on the little one in there.”

“I don’t want to see,” Télyn said. “Not without Paige.”

The doctor nodded, turning the screen slightly away. “Where is the missus, by the way?”

“She’s at practice. So can you put the pictures in an envelope? And we’ll look at them when we get home.”

“Of course.”

Télyn let out a breath. “Thank you, Dr. White.”

“You are very welcome.”

Télyn shifted slightly when the wand pressed more firmly against her stomach, the gel cold enough to make her flinch. The room fell quiet again, save for the faint hum of the machine.

Dr. White’s expression softened as she watched the screen, her movements careful, practiced. She didn’t say anything right away, and Télyn appreciated that.

“Everything looks good,” the doctor said finally. “Measurements are right where they should be.”

Télyn nodded, staring up at the ceiling. She focused on breathing evenly, on the way the paper beneath her rustled every time she moved. “Okay.”

“Strong heartbeat,” Dr. White added, almost casually.

That did it. Télyn swallowed hard, her chest tightening despite herself. She pressed her lips together, one hand curling into the sheet at her side.

There was another human being growing inside of her. She was creating life, and the weight of that realization settled deep in her bones, heavy and impossible and sacred all at once.

Her body wasn’t just hers anymore. Every breath, every heartbeat, every quiet decision carried someone else with it. Someone small. Someone fragile. Someone who already mattered more than anything she could name.

Télyn blinked rapidly, staring up at the ceiling as emotion crept up her throat, uninvited and unstoppable. She hadn’t known it would feel like this, like awe mixed with fear, like love arriving before she’d even seen a face.

“We’re having a baby,” Télyn murmured.

Dr. White smiled. “You are.”

She turned back to the screen, fingers moving as she captured a few images. “This here is the head,” she explained gently. “And those are the beginnings of the spine.”

Télyn nodded, even though she still refused to look. She listened instead, clinging to every word like an anchor.

“The heartbeat is strong,” Dr. White continued. “Right where it should be for how far along you are.”

Télyn let out a shaky breath, her hand drifting instinctively to her stomach.

Dr. White printed the images and slid them carefully into an envelope before handing it to her. “You’re doing beautifully,” she said softly.

Télyn managed a small smile. “Thank you.”

Dr. White nodded and wiped Télyn’s belly. “Any more questions?”

“I have so many,” Télyn said, pulling down her shirt. She sat up, absently kicking her feet. “Do you know the gender?”

“Yes,” Dr. White confirmed. “Is that something else you and Paige want to find out together?”

Télyn shook her head immediately. “We want it to be a surprise.”

Her doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “You? Want a surprise? You hate surprises.”

Télyn laughed lightly. She did hate surprises, but this was a good surprise. The best kind. She and Paige had already talked about it, late at night, tangled together in bed. About not needing to know everything right away. About letting something be just theirs, unfolding in its own time.

“This is one thing we can wait for,” Télyn said. “But we do want to know the due date. I can’t handle too many surprises.”

Dr. White laughed, nodding in understanding. “Of course. It’s November first.”

“So our baby will be a Scorpio,” Télyn said to herself. “Huh.”

“Not a fan?”

“No. But if my baby is one, I have no choice.”

“That is correct.”

Télyn allowed herself a laugh, her mind still swirling with questions. She decided she’d find the answers on the internet later, probably at three in the morning, spiraling.

“Thanks a lot, Dr. White.” Télyn gripped the envelope tightly, as if she were afraid someone might snatch it from her. “I can’t wait to see.”

“Of course. Next time, bring Paige, and you all can listen to the heartbeat together.”

“Okay. See you later.”

Télyn made her way to the parking lot, practically vibrating with excitement. She was pregnant. Really pregnant. This cycle of IVF had worked, and she and Paige were going to have a baby in a few months.

She had taken a fancy at home test for the fun of it. It had been two weeks post-embryo transfer, so they told themselves not to get their hopes up. Unrivaled had just ended, and Paige was in Stanford until the W’s season started, so the time was perfect. Télyn couldn’t bear the thought of another negative test and Paige wasn’t there.

Paige had sat on the edge of the bathtub, elbows on her knees, trying very hard to look calm while Télyn paced the bathroom like a caged animal. The test lay on the counter between them, face down, like it might bite.

“Three minutes,” Paige said, glancing at her watch.

“I hate waiting,” Télyn muttered. “Why does everything important involve waiting?”

Paige smiled despite herself. “Because the universe enjoys watching you suffer.”

Télyn shot her a look, then softened. Her hand drifted to her stomach without thinking, a habit she hadn’t even realized she was forming yet. “Okay. Okay. I’m fine.”

She was not fine.

When the timer finally went off, the sound was obnoxiously loud in the space. Télyn froze. Paige stood at the same time she did, their shoulders bumping.

“Together,” Paige said, steady but hopeful.

“Together,” Télyn echoed.

Paige flipped the test over.

For a split second, Télyn didn’t understand what she was seeing. Her brain lagged behind her eyes, like it couldn’t quite process the information fast enough.

Two lines.

Her mouth fell open and shut just as quickly. She glanced at Paige before launching herself forward, nearly toppling her over.

“You did it.” Télyn laughed, breathless and disbelieving. “You actually got me pregnant!”

Paige let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob as she caught them both, arms wrapping tight around Télyn’s waist. “You’re pregnant,” she whispered.

“I’m pregnant,” Télyn breathed, perfectly in awe. She wiped her wet face before planting a kiss on Paige’s forehead. Then her cheek. Then her jaw. “We’re gonna be moms.”

She pulled back just enough to look at her. Paige’s eyes were glassy, her smile trembling like it didn’t trust itself yet.

“Say it again,” Paige said softly. “I just—say it again.”

“We’re gonna be moms,” Télyn repeated, this time slower. “There’s a little… something. In here.” She guided Paige’s hand to her stomach, pressing it flat like that might somehow make it more real.

Paige went still.

Her breath hitched, sharp and quiet, and for a moment she didn’t say anything at all. Just stood there with her palm warm against Télyn’s skin, like she was afraid if she moved, the whole thing might vanish.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. Then, a little louder, like she was testing the sound of it in the air. “Oh my God.”

She dropped her forehead against Télyn’s shoulder and laughed a broken, disbelieving sound that melted straight into tears. Télyn wrapped her up again, rocking them slightly, the bathroom suddenly feeling too small to hold everything bursting out of them.

“We’re really gonna be moms.”

Paige’s smile settled, calm and sure. “Yeah,” she said. “And we’re gonna be great at it.”

Télyn got herself situated in the car before sending a quick text to Paige, her fingers trembling with excitement as they flew across the screen.

Esposa🩺: baby is perfect. hurry home so i can show you the ultrasound pics

The reply was immediate.

Paige🩵: I love you so much I might cry in the locker room

Télyn laughed out loud, imagining Paige’s teammates teasing her, like they always did when it came to her. Paige was so chicken tender about her, and Télyn loved that for herself.

Télyn bit her bottom lip, typing out a quick response.

Esposa🩺: i was so nervous

Paige🩵: You’re always nervous. That’s like your thing

Télyn huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. She was happy the baby was doing so well, considering she hadn’t been taking care of herself like she was supposed to. She took her vitamins and met her daily water intake, but she had been a mess in every other way.

Eating had become the hardest part.

It wasn’t intentional. She wasn’t skipping meals out of neglect or stubbornness. Her body just… never asked for them. Hunger barely registered, a faint echo drowned out by anxiety and the steady dulling effect of her medication. Food felt heavy before it ever reached her mouth, and some days she realized too late that she’d gone hours on nothing but water and determination.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. She worried constantly about the baby—about growth charts and heartbeats and what could go wrong—and yet that same worry made it harder to give her body what it needed. Stress stole her appetite, and the meds flattened what little hunger she’d ever had to begin with. It was a cycle she didn’t know how to break.

She told herself the vitamins helped. That hydration counted for something. That she’d do better tomorrow.

Still, guilt lingered. Not loud or dramatic, just a quiet weight that followed her through the day. She pressed a hand to her stomach, not in panic, but in promise. She was trying. Even when her body resisted. Even when her mind made simple things feel impossible.

The baby was okay. The doctor had said so.

For now.

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Télyn could barely sit still as she awaited Paige’s arrival. Juni was at basketball practice and would be going with Sapphire afterwards, so Télyn would be alone for about another thirty minutes.

She stared at the envelope on the coffee table, her hands tucked underneath herself to keep from ripping it open. It was moments like these when Télyn agreed with everyone who had ever said she was an antsy person.

Télyn huffed, standing abruptly from the couch. She went into the office to grab copy paper and a pack of colored pencils. They were the expensive ones that Paige bought for Juni because she wanted her to take all of her hobbies very seriously. Télyn didn’t know why a four year old couldn’t just have a pack of Crayola, but Paige spoiled Juni more than anyone else.

Télyn sat at the kitchen table and began drawing a picture. She had to admit her artistic skills had gotten better over the years from all the pictures she’d drawn for Paige. She had graduated from stick figures to something that at least resembled people, with limbs that bent the right way and faces that had expressions instead of just dots and lines.

She sketched Paige first, without really thinking about it. Paige always came first. Long hair, soft smile, the faint dimple Télyn loved pretending she didn’t obsess over. Then she added Juni—shorter, rounder, hair sticking wild and free, grinning far too wide for her tiny face. Last came Télyn herself, sitting cross-legged between them, her own smile looking a little unsure even on paper.

“Perfect,” Télyn mumbled to herself.

​​The sound of the door slamming made her jolt so hard her pencil rolled off the table.

“Té?” Paige called, familiar and warm and instantly grounding.

“Paige!” Télyn called back, scrambling to her feet and nearly knocking the chair over. She grabbed the drawing, hesitated, then set it face-down on the table like it might bite.

She met Paige in the foyer a second later, gym bag slung over her shoulder, hair damp with sweat. Her eyes went immediately to Télyn’s face—too bright, too nervous—and then, inevitably, to the living room.

“…Why are you vibrating?” Paige asked, amused.

Télyn laughed, breathless. “We have to see the baby!” Télyn squealed, removing the bag from Paige’s shoulder. She tossed it onto the floor before dragging Paige by her arm.

She gently pushed Paige onto the couch before taking the seat next to her.

“You wanna open it?” she asked Paige.

Paige shook her head. “I want you to,” she said softly, her smile small but steady. She reached out, threading her fingers through Télyn’s, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I want to watch your face.”

Télyn swallowed, heart pounding so loud she was sure Paige could hear it. She reached for the envelope, hands trembling just enough to annoy her. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

She slid a finger under the flap, careful, like the paper might tear wrong and ruin everything. The sound was impossibly loud in the quiet room. Télyn pulled the photos out slowly, breath held, then turned them toward herself first despite every intention she’d had to do this together.

Her eyes landed on the grainy black-and-white image.

“Um…” she said quietly.

Paige leaned in immediately, her free hand coming to rest on Télyn’s knee. “What’s wrong?”

Télyn tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s just… a blob.”

She handed the strip to Paige, who was always the more optimistic of the two.

“It is not a blob,” Paige started, holding the images close, “it’s our baby.”

Télyn smiled despite herself. “Dr. White said she saw its head and spine. I don’t see anything.”

Paige tilted the strip toward the light, studying it with the kind of focus she usually reserved for game film.

“I see it,” she said, pointing at the grey circle in the photo. “That’s the head.”

Télyn squinted, totally unconvinced. “I don’t think so.”

“I know so,” Paige said, observing the pictures closely. She looked at Télyn, then back at the pictures. “Has a big head like you. Your child for sure.”

Télyn snorted. “That means it’ll be smart. Unlike one of its moms, who has a UConn education.”

“Hey,” Paige said immediately, fake-offended, pulling the photos back to her chest. “I went to UConn for basketball.”

Télyn rolled her eyes, taking the photos from Paige. “I guess.” She looked at the photos more closely, squinting her eyes to see what the doctor had seen earlier. Her imagination wasn’t very active, but she wanted to see their baby. She tilted the photos to the side a little. “Okay, maybe I do see it.”

Paige perked up instantly. “See?”

Télyn stared at the photos in front of her, her heart growing as large as her head. This was real. Not theoretical, not a joke she could tease her way out of. Real in a quiet, sneaky way that caught her off guard. She swallowed, thumb brushing the edge of the glossy paper.

“I think it’s a boy,” she said matter-of-factly.

Paige frowned. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“It just feels like it’s a boy,” Télyn said. “Everyone in my family has girls, so of course I have to be the one who goes and has a boy.”

“Is that how it works?” Paige asked. “Since they’re my eggs.”

Télyn paused, considering this. “Well, if you want me to get all science-y, the sperm determines the gender because it provides either another X, which gives us a girl, or a Y, which gives us a boy. If you want the answer based on pure intuition, that is exactly how it works. Our baby is going to be an outlier simply because it has my blood in it.”

Paige hummed, considering this.

“Well, I still think it’s a girl,” she said.

Télyn raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you’d want a boy.”

“I do, but I know you want a girl. So I want a girl,” Paige said.

“I think you’d be a good boy mom.”

“And you’d be a good girl mom.”

This was one of the many debates they’d had while talking about a future family—usually late at night, half-serious, half-competitive. Télyn wanted a house full of girls, all attitude and sharp tongues, tiny versions of herself running around like it was a personal legacy project. A thousand mini Télyns sounded like heaven. Loud heaven, but heaven.

Paige wanted boys, so she could teach them how to shoot a jumper before they could spell their names, raise them disciplined and confident, tiny versions of her with her work ethic and calm focus. Boys who listened. Boys who followed rules.

“How about a healthy baby,” Télyn said, setting the photos on the table. She leaned into Paige, resting her head on her shoulder. “A healthy baby who looks like me.”

“A baby who looks like me.” Paige placed her hand on Télyn’s thigh. Télyn shot her a pointed look and pushed it away. Paige laughed despite herself. “What?”

“Later,” she murmured.

Paige’s laugh was low, knowing. She leaned back into the couch, eyes flicking over Télyn like she had all the time in the world. “You always say ‘later’ like it’s a threat.”

Télyn shifted, already regretting giving Paige that opening. “Don’t start.”

Paige did anyway. “You’re the one who leaned in,” she said mildly. “You’re the one who got all soft.”

“I’m pregnant,” Télyn shot back. “That doesn’t count.”

Paige hummed, clearly unconvinced. She reached for the ultrasound photos again, tapping them against Télyn’s knee. “You hear that?” she said. “Even the baby’s tired of the arguing.”

Télyn snorted, but she didn’t move away when Paige leaned closer. “The baby’s opinion doesn’t count until it’s old enough to talk.”

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby,” Paige said. She could imagine herself as a mom, but the fact that she was actually going to be one felt surreal. It seemed like just yesterday they were talking about having a volleyball starting lineup. “Should we tell Juni?”

“No,” Télyn said immediately. “I don’t want to tell anyone yet.”

“Not even Kiki?”

“Not even Kiki.”

Paige reached down, her hand resting against Télyn’s belly. Télyn giggled a little, at how weird it felt at first. Usually, she never let Paige touch her like that, but this was oddly different.

Paige’s palm was warm through the fabric of Télyn’s shirt, steady in a way that made her heart stop. She laughed again, softer this time, and covered Paige’s hand with her own.

“I think I have a couple months before I start to show,” Télyn began quietly. “Dr. White said gaining four pounds in four months is normal since I’m an athlete. She said the baby is the right size, and that’s all that matters.”

Paige kissed the top of her forehead. “See? All that worrying you did for nothing.”

“I can’t help it,” Télyn said, laughing. ‘I’m a worrier.”

​​The moment lingered—warm, fragile, perfect—until the buzz of Paige’s phone broke it. Paige groaned softly and glanced at the screen, her hand still resting over Télyn’s.

“Saphy has an emergency,” she said. “Juni’s on her way.”

Télyn exhaled, leaning back against the couch. The future could wait a few more minutes. Real life, apparently, could not.

“What do you want for lunch?” Télyn asked, finally standing.

Paige stood after her, following her to the kitchen. “What does baby want?”

“Baby always wants ice cream, but I want a salad.”

“Then I’ll make us a chicken salad.”

Télyn grabbed Paige’s arms when they reached for the refrigerator doors. “No. No, no, no.”

Paige froze, brows knitting. “What?”

“You sit down. I’ll cook,” Télyn said, opening the refrigerator.

“I know how to make salad,” Paige said. “That’s like… the easiest thing besides cereal.”

“But I’m the cook in this marriage.” Télyn grabbed Paige by the waist and walked her over to the island stools. “So sit down.”

Paige rolled her eyes but let herself be deposited, propping her elbows on the granite. “You never let me do anything nice for you.”

“Yes, I do,” Télyn said, pulling out ingredients. “I let you kill spiders for me. I let you buy me anything I want. I let you be big spoon sometimes.”

Paige’s mouth twitched. “Sometimes.”

“On special occasions,” Télyn said solemnly. “When I’m feeling generous.”

Paige swung her foot against the stool, watching her. “When will you feel generous and let me cook for you?”

Télyn paused, pretending to think about it for a moment. “Never,” she said flatly.

The only time Télyn could recall Paige ever cooking for her was when she’d warmed up a bowl of soup. They’d long ago accepted that Télyn was the Top Chef, and Paige was banned from the kitchen. Télyn didn’t trust her to boil water, let alone cook a decent meal.

“You’re annoying,” Paige said, half kidding, half not.

Télyn slowly turned and leaned against the counter. She narrowed her eyes at the woman across from her, suddenly very serious. She didn’t say anything at first, just tapped her freshly manicured nails against the counter, assessing.

Télyn let the silence sit between them a beat longer than necessary.

Then another.

Paige bit the inside of her lip, eyes raking over Télyn. Over the years, she’d had to relearn Télyn’s tells again and again as they changed. Télyn had never been good at holding her tongue.

Now, though, the silence lingered. Longer than it used to. Long enough to mean something else.

It was a pause offered, not a warning. A narrow window for Paige to redeem herself before Télyn decided she’d had enough.

“I was just kidding,” Paige said quietly.

Télyn rolled her eyes, grabbing a cutting board from the cabinet. “No, you weren’t.”

“I was,” Paige said quickly.

Télyn went quiet again, then laughed, a sound that bubbled out of her like champagne. The warmth of it sent shivers down Paige’s spine. Télyn’s laugh was her favorite sound, but right now it felt like standing too close to a flame.

“What’s so funny?” Paige asked, narrowing her eyes.

Télyn didn’t look up from the chicken she was cutting. “You, silly.”

“How am I funny?”

“Because…” Télyn paused, her grip on the knife loosening. “You’re so scared.”

Paige scoffed, though it came out softer than she meant it to. “I’m not scared.”

Télyn finally looked up.

Not sharply. Not angry. Just… intent.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “You are.”

She set the knife down this time, deliberate, the sound of it against the counter loud in the quiet. Then she turned, resting her hip against the edge of the counter, studying Paige like she always did when she was trying to decide something important.

“My therapist said it’s normal that we get annoyed with each other sometimes,” Télyn continued. “It makes us human. We’re not perfect.”

Télyn already knew there were some traits Paige found annoying about her. Like the fact that she insisted on doing everything herself. She didn’t care that there was another person in the world who would happily shoulder the weight with her.

And Paige knew there were things she did that pissed Télyn off. Starting with the way she could always hear every single chew, every sip, every subtle exhale Paige made while eating. It was a little thing, but to Télyn it was enough to make her jaw tighten.

It was annoying, yes, but also very endearing. Télyn made sure to let Paige help out sometimes, and Paige made sure not to take it personally when Télyn needed the reins.

They’d learned each other in layers, the way you do when love sticks around long enough to see the edges. The habits that grated. The ones that softened with time. The ones that somehow managed to be both.

Paige stood up and made her way around the counter. She gently took Télyn by the waist, arms wrapping tight around her. She rested her chin against Télyn’s shoulder, careful not to crowd her, just close enough to be felt.

“I know I’m annoying,” Paige said quietly. “I do it on purpose sometimes.”

Télyn huffed a laugh, leaning back into her. “I know. You’re very proud of it.”

Paige smiled against her skin. “You still love me.”

“Unfortunately,” Télyn said, soft but certain, “yes.”

Paige kissed her neck slowly, letting her lips linger where Télyn’s pulse fluttered just beneath the skin. Then she turned Télyn in her arms until they were chest to chest, foreheads touching, the cutting board and half-chopped chicken forgotten behind them.

Télyn exhaled a shaky little laugh against Paige’s mouth. “You’re gonna make me cry in my own kitchen.”

“You already cried in the bathroom this morning,” Paige murmured, thumbs brushing slow arcs along Télyn’s ribs. “Fair’s fair.”

“Different kind of crying.” Télyn’s hands slid up Paige’s arms, fingers curling into the fabric of her practice shirt. She could still smell the faint trace of gym, sweat and rubber and that stupid vanilla body spray Paige swore made her smell “approachable.” It didn’t. It made her smell like dessert someone had left out too long. Télyn loved it anyway.

Paige dipped her head, kissing the corner of Télyn’s mouth, then the other corner, teasing. “Tell me what kind this is.”

Télyn tilted her chin up, chasing the next kiss. “The kind where you’re being soft, and I hate how much I like it.”

Paige grinned against her lips. “Hate how much you like me. Noted.”

They kissed properly then, deeper, unhurried, the way people kiss when there’s no clock ticking down and no one else in the house. Paige’s hands stayed gentle on Télyn’s waist, mindful of the barely-there swell beneath her shirt, but Télyn pressed closer anyway, needing the solid warmth of her, the reminder that this was real and not just another anxious daydream.

When they broke apart, Télyn rested her forehead against Paige’s collarbone and breathed her in. “I was serious about the salad.”

“I know.” Paige kissed the top of her head. “But you’re also serious about not letting me help, so I’m gonna stand here and hold you until you change your mind.”

“Never.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Télyn laughed de again, softer, and let herself be swayed slightly, like they were slow-dancing in the middle of the kitchen with no music. Paige’s hand found its way back to Télyn’s stomach, palm flat and reverent, and this time Télyn didn’t push it away. She covered it with her own instead, lacing their fingers together okinawa over the place where everything was changing.

“I was scared today,” Télyn admitted quietly. “Not of the appointment. Just… of how much I already love it. How much it already matters. What if I mess it up?”

Paige’s arms tightened. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” Paige pulled back just enough to look at her. “You worry so much it keeps you awake at three a.m. googling ‘does not having morning sickness mean something is wrong with me.’ You already love this baby more than you know how to say out loud. That’s not messing up. That’s the opposite.”

Télyn’s throat clicked when she swallowed. “I didn’t eat lunch yesterday.”

Paige’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes went softer, sadder in that quiet way only Télyn ever got to see. “I know.”

“I tried. I just… couldn’t.”

“I know that too.” Paige brushed a thumb under Télyn’s eye, catching the dampness that had gathered there without her noticing. “We’re gonna figure it out. Small meals. Smoothies. Whatever works. I’ll sit with you. I’ll bribe you with ice cream after. I’ll do the embarrassing baby voice if it makes you laugh and keeps something in your stomach.”

Télyn huffed a watery laugh. “You already do the embarrassing baby voice.”

“Only for Juni.”

“And now for me, apparently.”

“Especially for you.” Paige kissed her again. Quick, firm, grounding. “You’re growing our kid. Let me take care of the mom part sometimes.”

Télyn searched her face for a long moment, then nodded once. Small. Certain. “Okay.”

Paige’s smile broke wide and bright, the kind that still made Télyn’s chest ache after all these years. “Okay.”

She stepped back, but only far enough to grab the cutting board and slide it toward herself. “I’m finishing this salad. You’re gonna sit there and supervise like the control freak you are. Deal?”

Télyn crossed her arms, trying and failing to look stern. “Only if you don’t burn the chicken.”

“I’m not gonna burn chicken in a cold salad.”

“You burned toast last month.”

“That was one time, and only because I got distracted.”

Télyn snorted, but she slid onto one of the stools anyway, propping her chin in her hand to watch. Paige moved around the kitchen with the careful focus she usually saved for the court, like it was a play she’d run a thousand times. It was endearing, ridiculous, perfect.

Halfway through slicing a lemon, Paige glanced over. “You’re staring.”

“You’re cute when you’re trying not to fuck up.”

“I’m not gonna fuck up.” Paige pointed the knife at her playfully. “And even if I do, you’re contractually obligated to eat it and tell me it’s amazing.”

“Contractually?”

“Marriage certificate. Fine print.”

Télyn rolled her eyes, but the smile stayed. She rested her hand on her stomach again—habit now, comfort now—and felt the quiet certainty settle deeper.

They were going to be okay.

All three of them.