"Lily May Hale Whitman, did you climb on the counter?"
She looked up with chocolate-smeared innocence. "Maybe."
"What's the rule about climbing?"
"Ask for help first," Lily recited dutifully. "But Dada was busy with Tommy, and I wanted chocolate chips."
Sebastian tried to maintain his father face, but it was difficult when she looked so pleased with herself. "Next time, wait for help, deal?"
"Deal." She held out a chocolate chip. "Want one? I share."
"That's very generous, but these are supposed to go in the pancakes."
"Oh." Lily considered this. "That's a good idea. Can I help?"
They worked together—or rather, Lily helped by adding approximately four times the necessary amount of chocolate chips while Sebastian bounced Thomas in one arm and attempted to create pancakes that were less blob-like. The kitchen was a disaster, chocolate chips scattered across every surface, but Lily was giggling and Thomas was content, and Sebastian thought, This is perfect.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs announced Nora's arrival. She appeared in the doorway, hair wild from sleep, wearing one of Sebastian's old T-shirts and pajama pants, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"What's all this racket?" she asked, but she was smiling.
"Dada's making creative blobs," Lily announced, "and I'm helping."
"I can see that." Nora surveyed the chocolate chip carnage with amusement. "Looks like you need reinforcements."
She crossed to Sebastian, rising on her toes to kiss him—a familiar greeting that still made his heart skip. Then she took Thomas, cooing at him while Sebastian focused on salvaging breakfast.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked.
"Like someone who was up three times last night with a teething baby," but her tone was fond. "Your turn tonight, deal?"
They'd fallen into these rhythms naturally over the past year: the give-and-take of partnership, of building a life together. It hadn't all been easy. There had been arguments about parenting styles and whose turn it was to deal with Lily's spectacular tantrum phase. There had been moments when Sebastian's old life tried to pull him back: board meetings he felt obligated to attend, his mother's periodic attempts at reconciliation on her terms.
But they'd figured it out together. Catherine had eventually come around, sort of. She'd shown up at Lily's second birthday party with an enormous dollhouse and an awkward apology. She still made pointed comments about Nora's background and clearly struggled with Sebastian's new priorities, but she'd learned where the boundaries were. When she crossed them, Sebastian had no problem reinforcing them.
Vanessa had gotten married to a hedge fund manager; Sebastian had seen the announcement in the society pages and felt nothing but relief that she'd found someone more suitable for the life she wanted.
Marcus was thriving as CEO, the company performing better than ever without Sebastian's constant micromanaging. Sebastian still held majority shares and attended quarterly board meetings, but his daily life was here, in this kitchen, with pancake batter on his shirt and his daughter's laughter filling the air.
They ate breakfast together, Lily providing running commentary on the quality of each pancake (still too blob-like, apparently) while Thomas gummed a teething ring and watched his sister with fascination.
After cleanup—which took twice as long as cooking—they bundled everyone up for their Sunday tradition: the farmers market.
The market was crowded with weekend shoppers, the air filled with the scent of fresh bread and flowers. Lily held tight to Sebastian's hand while Nora pushed Thomas in his stroller, navigating the crowds with practiced ease.
"Can we get cookies?" Lily asked, spotting a bakery stand.
"After we get the vegetables Mama needs for dinner."
"Vegetables are boring."
"Vegetables help you grow big and strong."
"I'm already big and strong."
Sebastian laughed, swinging her up onto his shoulders. "Then you're doing a great job with the vegetables. Keep it up."
They moved through the market, collecting fresh produce, artisan cheese, the cookies Lily had been promised. Sebastian watched Nora bargain cheerfully with a farmer over the price of heirloom tomatoes, saw her laugh when Thomas grabbed a bunch of parsley and tried to eat it, observed the easy way she moved through the world—confident, capable, completely herself.
He'd been terrified of losing her, of her changing her mind, of not being enough, of somehow screwing up this second chance. But Nora had been patient with his fears, had called him out when he was being ridiculous, and had met him halfway in building something neither of them had quite imagined, but both desperately wanted.
"Dada, look." Lily pointed from her perch on his shoulders. "It's Grandma Helen."
Nora's mother waved from across the market, making her way toward them with a warm smile. Helen Whitman had welcomed Sebastian into their family with open arms and only mild threats about what would happen if he ever hurt her daughter again. She was everything Catherine wasn't: warm, accepting, present.
"There are my beautiful grandbabies," Helen cooed, immediately reaching for Thomas. "And Sebastian, let me guess, Lily had chocolate for breakfast?"
"There was also pancake involved," Sebastian said defensively.
"I'm sure there was." Helen's eyes twinkled. "Nora, dear, you look exhausted. Why don't you and Sebastian take an hour to yourselves? I'll take the children to the park."
"Mom, you don't have to—"
"Nonsense, I want to." Helen smiled. "Besides, when's the last time you two had a moment alone?"
Nora and Sebastian exchanged glances. Helen had a point. Between two children, work, and the general chaos of life, alone time was rare.