50. Brielle

The sizzle of bacon fills the air as I flip it in the pan, phone cradled between my shoulder and ear. "Honestly, Callie, it's like we've found our rhythm," I say, a smile spreading across my lips as I think about Conrad, Levi, and Grayson.

"Sounds dreamy, Brielle." Callie's voice crackles with static over the line. "You're one lucky girl. How about celebrating with a girls' night soon?"

I chuckle, glancing down at the curve of my belly, which seems to have grown overnight. "I'm not sure I'd make the best wingwoman right now," I tease, prodding the swelling bump that houses our twins.

"Please, you'd still outshine everyone," Callie insists, her voice bubbling with laughter. "And besides, it's not like I need a wingwoman anymore. Things with Mr. Moneybags are going great."

"Really?" I ask, an eyebrow arching as I shuffle around the kitchen, pulling plates from the cabinet. I can't help but feel a surge of happiness for her, even as I balance the phone more securely. "That's awesome, Callie."

"Totally. It's like living in a romance novel," she gushes. And just like that, we're both giggling, united by the sheer ridiculousness and wonder of our love lives.

I lean against the cool granite of the kitchen island, stirring the scrambled eggs. "So, Callie, what would you do if?—"

A pair of strong arms encircle my waist, and I gasp softly, the warmth of Conrad's body pressing against my back. His lips trail featherlight kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck, and I lose my train of thought.

"Hey, beautiful." Levi's voice pulls me back to reality, his figure leaning casually against the doorframe. "How are you holding up? The twins giving you a hard time?"

I smile at him, the fluttering in my stomach not entirely from the babies. "Actually, they're being pretty cooperative this morning."

Conrad's hands roam gently over the swell of my belly as he places another kiss on my neck, his stubble tickling me. With a soft sigh, I reach up to touch the hand that rests on my abdomen.

"Oops, gotta go, Callie," I murmur into the phone, but Conrad gently takes it from my hand and ends the call for me with a decisive click.

"Hey!" I protest, half-heartedly.

"Sorry, love," he says, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "But I'm right here, and I need your attention more than she does." He punctuates his point with another, deeper kiss, one that has me leaning back into him, craving more.

I pull away slightly, catching my breath. "Where's Grayson?" I ask, missing the fourth part of our puzzle.

"Am I late to the party?" Grayson says, entering the room.

The corners of my mouth tilt upward in a smile, my heart full now that all of my men are here with me. I reach for him and he joins us, leaning in for a kiss. "Missed you."

He chuckles against my lips. "From all the way downstairs? I missed you too. I love you, Brielle."

"I love you too."

A sharp knock on the door pierces our bubble. I whisper, "I should get that," and their arms release me with a reluctant ease.

I shuffle to the door, hand resting on my rounded stomach. The cool metal of the doorknob feels grounding as I twist it open.

My father stands there, his eyes wide with something I can't read. We haven't spoken since the argument at the hospital, a chasm formed from harsh words and misunderstandings.

"Hi, Dad," I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel.

His gaze shifts from my face down to the swell of my belly, his expression morphing from nervousness to something like awe. "You're glowing, Brielle," he murmurs, a note of wonder lacing his voice.

"Why are you here?" I ask, unable to mask the skepticism in my tone. His last words still echo in my mind, filled with disapproval for the life I've chosen.

He shuffles uncomfortably on the doorstep, looking anywhere but at me. "I've missed you," he starts, his voice low. "I can't…I can't lose my daughter over this." He glances up, meeting my eyes squarely now.

"Even if you don't understand it?" My heart hammers against my ribs, waiting for his reply.

"Even if I don't," he concedes with a heavy sigh. "I'm willing to accept your choices. Your…relationship, as unconventional as it is."

My breath catches at his admission, hope flickering.

"And there's more," he continues, a trace of the old determination back in his voice. "I've managed to keep the hospital incident under wraps. No one needs to know, and I want to offer your men their jobs back."

Relief washes over me in a warm wave. The prospect of normalcy, of mending bridges, feels overwhelming yet necessary. "Thank you, Dad," I whisper, the weight of our estrangement lifting ever so slightly with those three words.

I step forward, closing the gap between my father and me. My arms wrap around his familiar frame, pulling him into an embrace that carries all the words we haven't said, all the love that's been strained but never broken. His arms are hesitant at first, but then they come around me, strong and warm.

"I've missed you so much," I breathe out, the tightness in my chest easing.

"Me too, honey," he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion.

We stand there, in the doorway, holding each other. It's a silent truce, a bridge over turbulent waters.

Stepping back, I wipe away a rogue tear, finding Levi's concerned gaze on us. "You guys cool?" he asks, his tone hopeful.

My dad's eyes shift to Levi, and it takes him a moment before he nods. "Yeah," he says, his voice more steady than I expect. "We're cool."

The sigh of relief from Levi is almost audible. He steps closer, and Conrad and Grayson are not far behind. There's a brief hesitation before my father opens his arms again, this time wider.

We converge into a group hug, enveloped in a sense of unity that's been absent for too long. Conrad's hand finds mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze, while Levi's arm wraps around us both and Grayson's hand moves in reassuring circles on my back.

"Family," Conrad murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude.

"Family," Levi echoes, his smile audible in his voice.

"Family," Grayson says sincerely, like a promise.

"Family," my father agrees, and it feels like the first piece of a new beginning clicks into place.

We stand there in the kitchen, wrapped up in each other—literally and figuratively. The warmth of their bodies, the steady rhythm of their hearts, and the quiet strength of their presence—it's everything. It's acceptance, it's healing, it's home.

"Let's not waste any more time," Dad says, finally pulling back. His eyes, bright with unshed tears, meet mine, and in them I see the future—a future where love doesn't have to fit a mold, where my family, all of them, can be together.

"Agreed," I respond, smiling through the tears that now freely fall. We're stronger together, after all. And I wouldn't have it any other way.