Chapter 136: Hundred and Thirty Six

The zoo and the playground should’ve been enough to wear Noah out, but somehow, he only grew more determined. After we were done with the playground, his little hands latched onto both Jacob’s and Declan’s again, pulling them toward the carnival-style section near the exit.

“There’s rides!” he cried, eyes shining. “And games! Please, please, please?”

I hesitated, already picturing the meltdowns of overtired children and frazzled parents. But Noah’s hopeful face, combined with the oddity of both Jacob and Declan trailing behind like reluctant bodyguards, made it impossible to say no.

“Just one or two,” I said firmly.

“Three!” Noah negotiated instantly.

“Two,” Jacob countered, his voice flat but decisive.

Noah agreed. I think Declan wanted to say something, but he looked at me, and kept silent.

The first ride Noah chose was a kiddie roller coaster shaped like a caterpillar. It was small, colorful, and harmless, until the attendant announced Noah needed an adult to ride with him.

Before I could step forward, Noah pointed between Jacob and Declan. “Both!”

The attendant laughed. “Sorry, only one adult per car.”

The look on both men’s faces was priceless. These two huge men suddenly so competitive about who would get to ride a huge plastic caterpillar.

“I’ll go,” Jacob said quickly.

“No,” Declan replied at the same time.

I bit back a laugh. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

They both glared at me, then at each other. Declan sighed, raising his fist. Jacob reluctantly mirrored him.

Two rounds later, Declan lost. Jacob took the tiny car seat beside Noah, knees nearly to his chest, looking absolutely miserable.

As the caterpillar chugged up the miniature hill, Declan leaned on the railing beside me, smirking. “I almost wish I had my phone out.”

I grinned. “I’ll remember this forever, don’t worry.”

When the ride ended, Noah was beaming and Jacob looked like he’d survived a war. Declan clapped him on the shoulder as they exited. “Brave man.”

“Shut up,” Jacob muttered, but there was no real bite in it.

It made me smile.

Next stop: the ring-toss booth. Noah wanted the giant stuffed panda almost as big as him. Declan stepped up first, rolled his sleeves back, and, of course, him being him, landed the first ring neatly on a bottle.

Jacob snorted. “Beginner’s luck.”

“Want to test that theory?” Declan asked lightly.

And just like that, they were both hunched over the counter, locked in a silent, ridiculous battle of pride. Ring after ring clattered and missed. Noah cheered for both, completely oblivious to the competitiveness heating between them.

Finally, after far too many attempts and too much money spent, Declan snagged the panda and handed it to Noah with a mock bow.

Noah squealed, hugging it. “He’s perfect! Thank you!”

Jacob muttered under his breath, “Rigged game anyway.”

“Sure it was, man,” Declan said sourly, grinning.

I stood to the side, shaking my head, half amused, half exasperated. For all their posturing, there was something strangely endearing about the sight. Two men who had every reason to hate each other, reduced to competing for a child’s smile.

The final ride was the carousel. This time, Noah insisted on the biggest horse in the center. Jacob lifted him up carefully, steadying him with a hand on his back.

Declan ended up beside them, leaning on the pole of the horse next door. When the ride began, the sight was almost surreal: Noah grinning wide, clutching the reins, Jacob steady and watchful, Declan matching Noah’s laughter with his own.

I stood just outside the fence, watching the scene unfold, a knot forming in my stomach.

For a moment, I let myself imagine this as our life. Not perfect, not even neat, but alive and good and happy and comfortable. I pinched myself to prevent my own self from jinxing it.

When the carousel slowed to a stop, Noah practically bounced off the horse. “Best day ever!” he declared, hugging the panda tight.

Jacob and Declan exchanged a quick look, not warm exactly, but not hostile either. Something had shifted.

The sun was sinking by the time we finally dragged ourselves back toward the parking lot. Noah skipped ahead, singing some nonsense song about giraffes and airplanes, while I walked between the two men, feeling an odd sense of… peace.

At the cars, we paused. It was that awkward moment of ending a day that had somehow gone better than any of us expected.

Jacob cleared his throat. “Thanks… for today.” The words were stiff, but genuine.

Declan nodded once. “Same.”

Noah ran up, tugging on Jacob’s hand, then Declan’s. “Can we do this again? Please?”

Jacob hesitated, eyes flicking to me. I gave a small nod. “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

Declan crouched down to Noah’s level. “What do you think about going somewhere special next time? Somewhere with a lake?”

Noah’s eyes widened. “A lake? With boats?”

“And a dock,” Declan said softly, glancing up at me. “I have a place a couple hours from here. Quiet. We could… all go. If that’s okay.”

My heart twisted. The lake house.

His tone wasn’t pushy. It was careful, almost shy. An offering, a request.

Noah bounced. “Yes! Yes, Mommy, can we? Please?”

I swallowed, looking between Jacob and Declan. “Maybe,” I said, my voice gentler than I intended. “We’ll talk about it.”

Declan’s gaze softened. “That’s all I ask.”

As we stood in the parking lot, prolonging the inevitable goodbyes, Noah tugged on the panda’s floppy arm and declared, “He needs a name.”

Declan raised an eyebrow. “What are the options?”

Noah tapped his chin seriously, then blurted, “Sir Pandington the Third.”

I laughed outright, covering my mouth. “What happened to the first two?”

Noah shrugged. “They died in the Great Panda War.”

Declan snorted, while Jacob muttered, “Of course they did.”

It was ridiculous, but that silly moment eased some of the tension. For just a second, the three of us were united in Noah’s absurd little world, all laughing at the same nonsense.

Declan leaned closer to Noah. “Sir Pandington the Third sounds very distinguished. I think he’s up to the task of protecting you.”

Noah puffed up proudly, clutching the toy tighter. “He’ll guard my bed every night.”

Jacob crouched beside him, brushing a hand over his hair. “And I’ll make sure of it,” he promised softly.

Something in my chest clenched at the sight.

Declan rose to his full height, slipping his hands back into his pockets. He gave Jacob the smallest nod like an acknowledgment, not a truce, but not war either. “Thanks for letting me tag along,” he said quietly.

Jacob’s expression was hard to read, but he answered, “It was for Noah.”

“Of course,” Declan agreed, but his eyes flicked to me for just a heartbeat longer than they should have.

When we finally parted ways, I drove home with Noah’s panda wedged between us in the front seat, his chatter spilling into the air. Behind the steering wheel, I kept hearing Declan’s offer echoing in my head.

And though I tried to tell myself it was just another outing for Noah’s sake, I couldn’t silence the part of me that whispered: It could be more.

Noah chattered to the panda in the backseat about lions and caterpillars and lakes.

And I drove. I imagined Declan and me wrapped up in each other at the lake house. And soon one day, we would take our son there. Together.