Chapter 602
Chapter 602
After the wedding, life settled into something quieter for Louisa and Julian.
Quiet, but full.
Every morning, Julian woke up first. He made breakfast, then padded down the hall to check on their son.
The baby's name was Nate Tudor — a name they'd chosen carefully, one that carried the weight of everything they'd built together.
Nate was an easy baby. He rarely fussed. Most of his days were eat, sleep, repeat, and on the rare moments he was awake, he'd lie there with wide, wondering eyes, taking in the world like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.
"Julian, look — he's smiling."
Louisa leaned over the crib rail, her whole face soft.
Julian came up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, chin settling on her shoulder.
"Looks like you," he murmured near her ear. "Beautiful when he smiles."
Her cheeks went warm. She gave him a little push.
"Stop it. The baby's watching."
"He's three months old. He has no idea."
Julian laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
As if on cue, Nate pumped his tiny fists and let out a delighted giggle.
All three of them, right where they were supposed to be.
---
Mornings, Louisa worked.
Becoming a mother hadn't changed that — if anything, it sharpened her focus. Her company had grown steadily under her hand, and she had no intention of slowing down.
Julian never asked her to.
He didn't hold old-fashioned ideas about what a wife should be. He respected her ambitions, backed her choices, and without being asked, picked up the slack at home — handling bedtime, taking Nate on walks, folding laundry at midnight without complaint — so she could pour herself into her work without guilt.
"Ms. Forbes." Noah set a folder on her desk, smiling. "This quarter's financials just came in. Another record high."
"Good." Louisa flipped through the pages and nodded. "Noah, you've been putting in serious work."
"Not at all." He waved it off. "Working with you is its own reward." He paused. "How's Nate doing these days?"
Her expression shifted — something warmer moving through it. "Good. Getting into everything."
Noah smiled. "That's the best kind of trouble." He stepped back toward the door. "I'll let you get to it."
She watched him go.
Noah had been with her through the hardest years. He'd stayed when things were falling apart and never once wavered. Watching him now, easy and steady, she felt the quiet satisfaction of a life that had found its footing.
---
Nicholas showed up at noon, arms full of toys.
"Nicholas." Louisa opened the door, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Missed the kid." He was already kicking off his shoes. "Where is he?"
He made a beeline for the nursery.
Nate spotted him the moment he walked in and burst into giggles, arms reaching up.
"There he is." Nicholas scooped him up, pressing an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. "Did you miss your uncle?"
Nate's response was to grab Nicholas's face with both hands and shriek with laughter.
"He's really taken to you," Louisa said from the doorway.
"Of course he has. I'm his favorite uncle." Nicholas looked insufferably pleased with himself. "And when he's older and someone messes with him, I've got his back."
Louisa leaned against the doorframe, watching them.
Having Nicholas here — it meant something she didn't always have words for.
---
That afternoon, Adeline and Echo arrived together, each carrying something handmade for Nate.
"Look at this." Adeline held up a small quilted jacket in deep red. "For winter. I made it soft — good fabric keeps the cold out."
"Mom." Louisa took it, running her fingers over the stitching. It was careful work. Careful and warm. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I'm his grandmother. This is what I'm supposed to do."
Echo produced a short-sleeved shirt with a little tiger embroidered across the chest. "This one's from me. Tigers bring luck." She smiled. "Keep him strong."
"Thank you, Grandma Echo."
Louisa held both pieces and felt something tighten in her chest — not painfully, but with the specific ache of receiving something she hadn't known how to want until now.
She hadn't grown up with this. The steady, ordinary love of family around a baby. She hadn't known what she was missing until she had it.
She knew now.
---
Afternoons belonged to Nate.
He was changing fast. Rolling over, sitting up, crawling with determined, clumsy speed. Every day brought something new, and Louisa documented all of it — a running archive of small moments she never wanted to lose.
Then one afternoon, Nate looked up at her, mouth working around something, and said it.
"Mama."
Blurry. Tentative. Unmistakable.
Louisa's eyes filled before she could stop them.
Julian heard her call out and came in to find her crouched over Nate, wiping her face, laughing at herself.
"He said mama," she told him, voice unsteady.
Julian crouched beside them, watching Nate with a soft expression.
"Okay, buddy. Your turn." He tapped his own chest. "Da-da."
Nate looked at him.
Then giggled and said nothing.
"Are you serious." Julian narrowed his eyes in mock offense and reached over to gently pinch Nate's cheek. "He said mama first."
"Maybe if you'd spent more time with him—"
"I come straight home every single night—"
"Uh-huh."
Their voices overlapped, teasing and laughing, filling the room.
Nate watched them both like they were the most entertaining thing he'd ever seen.
---
After Nate went down for the night, they sat on the balcony.
The sky was clear. Neither of them felt like going inside.
"Louisa." Julian turned to look at her. His voice was quiet, but his eyes were serious. "Do you ever regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"Marrying me." He held her gaze. "You've been through a lot because of me."
She looked at him for a moment.
Then she smiled.
"No," she said. "Not for a second." She leaned back, tilting her face toward the sky. "It wasn't easy — a lot of it wasn't. But I don't think I'd appreciate this as much if we hadn't gone through all of it." She paused. "Marrying you is the best decision I ever made."
Julian felt the warmth of it move through him, slow and certain.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For not giving up on me. For giving me a home."
She leaned into him, her head finding its place against his shoulder, and looked out at the night.
"We're going to keep being this happy," she said. "Right?"
He tightened his arm around her.
"Yeah," he said. "We are."
The moonlight came down around them, easy and unhurried.
Their story wasn't finished.
And the best of it was still ahead.