“Thank you,” he said softly.

For what, I never asked.

One night, standing in the nursery, he asked me, “Are you happy?”

I thought about the woman I had been on that courthouse bench, scared and alone.

“Yes,” I said, resting against him, “I am.”

Outside, people still told stories about Ethan Vale, but inside our home he was just a man who showed up every single day.

And that made all the difference.