February 15th, 2026. 5:43 p.m. The golden light of late winter spilled through the wide windows of Jason and Kylie Kelsey’s Pennsylvania home, painting everything in a soft, forgiving glow. The sound of children’s laughter echoed down the hallway, mingling with the comforting scent of roasted chicken, garlic butter, and freshly baked bread.

To anyone else, it might have looked like an ordinary family Sunday, the end of another noisy, lovefilled weekend. But for Travis Kelsey, something about that evening felt different from the start. The NFL season had ended only 2 weeks earlier. And Travis was still easing into what he liked to call the real life season.

 Family, food, and time to breathe. For months, he’d lived on adrenaline and film study, road trips, and stadium roars. Now standing in Jason’s kitchen, watching Taylor Swift laugh with Kylie over a glass of white wine, he felt the quiet sort of peace that didn’t need noise to prove itself.

 Taylor had driven down from New York that afternoon, fresh from a whirlwind of recording sessions. The moment she stepped into the Kelsey home, the chaos had instantly rearranged itself around her, children tugging at her hands, Kylie handing her a dish towel before she even took her coat off. Jason cracking a dad joke that made her roll her eyes and laugh. Travis watched it unfold with a half smile.

 Two years ago, Taylor might have looked like a guest in this setting. Now, she was simply part of it, one heartbeat in a larger rhythm. The house was alive. The television in the living room played a cartoon too loud. Someone was dropping toys on the hardwood. And from the kitchen came the rhythmic clatter of cutlery and the sizzle of something frying.

 Travis poured himself a glass of wine, but his attention was on Taylor. The way she automatically reached down to tie Elliot’s loose ribbon, or how she crouched to listen when Wyatt started telling her about a picture she’d drawn in art class. He didn’t notice the shift until it happened.

 Mom, can you help me with my shoes? Wyatt’s voice floated from the living room. Casual, unthinking. The kind of tone a child uses when they already know help will come. Travis froze. So did Jason halfway through setting the table. Kylie looked up from the stove but said nothing. The only person who didn’t react was Taylor. Without hesitation, she set down the wine opener.

 “Of course, sweetheart,” she said gently, her voice slipping into that soft maternal register that made every child within earshot feel safe. Travis leaned against the doorway and watched as she knelt beside Wyatt, helping her buckle the sparkly pink heels she’d gotten for Christmas. They were too big, but Wyatt adored them. Taylor didn’t rush.

 She listened to Wyatt chatter about her school project, nodding thoughtfully, occasionally brushing a stray strand of hair from the little girl’s face. Then she stood, held Wyatt’s hands, and guided her through the living room like it was a miniature runway. Laughter filled the air. Wyatt’s bright proud giggles and Taylor’s melodic joy that always made Travis feel something stir in his chest.

 Something warm, dangerous, and entirely real. He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Jason nudged him. “She’s unnatural,” Jason said under his breath. “Yeah,” Travis murmured, still staring. “She really is.” A few minutes later, when Taylor came back into the kitchen, he tried to sound casual.

 Did Wyatt just call you mom? Taylor paused. The corks grew halfway in the bottle. I think she did. Should I have corrected her? Travis hesitated. I don’t know. Honestly, it just surprised me. From the stove, Kylie said quietly. She’s been doing that more often lately. Taylor looked up.

 Really? Kylie nodded, stirring the sauce as if this conversation wasn’t monumental. Usually when she’s distracted. Last week she asked me where Mom Taylor was when you were in Nashville. Mom Taylor. The words landed heavy, like something both fragile and permanent. Travis felt it. That unspoken shift, the kind that changes how you see the future without you realizing it yet.

 He glanced at Taylor, who was frowning softly, the kind of thoughtful frown she wore when she was processing something that mattered. “I don’t want to confuse them,” she said quietly. Kylie smiled. “You’re not confusing them. You’re comforting them, and that’s what matters.” For a long moment, the kitchen was still, except for the simmering sound of dinner cooking and Wyatt’s faint laughter drifting from the next room. Taylor finally exhaled and said, “Then I’ll just keep loving them the way I do.

” Travis didn’t answer out loud, but in his chest, something deep and unguarded cracked open. He didn’t know it yet, but that small, unplanned moment would be the beginning of a night he’d never forget. Dinner preparations were in full swing. Jason was pouring drinks. Kylie was tasting her sauce for seasoning, and the steady background hum of children’s voices filled the air like music.

 Travis leaned casually against the counter, one arm draped around Taylor’s waist as she handed him glasses. Everything felt warm, rhythmic, normal, until a small cry shattered the domestic calm. I hurt my knee. The sound came from the hallway, high-pitched, panicked, and unmistakably Elliot. Before anyone else could even react, a blur of brown curls and tears came hurtling into the kitchen.

 Four-year-old Elliot was clutching her knee, sobbing so hard she hiccuped between breaths. Jason instinctively reached out. Kylie started to move, but Elliot didn’t slow down. She ran right past both of her parents, straight into Taylor’s arms. “Mommy, it hurts.” She wailed. Time seemed to stop. Taylor didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look surprised.

 She scooped Elliot up as if she’d done it a thousand times before, pressing the crying child to her chest and swaying gently. “Oh, sweet baby,” she whispered, brushing tears from the little girl’s cheeks. “Let me see.” Travis froze mid-motion, a wooden spoon still in his hand, staring as Taylor shifted effortlessly into caretaker mode.

 There was nothing hesitant or performative about her movements. Her voice softened automatically, her hands sure and practiced as she inspected the tiny scrape. It’s okay, she murmured. Mommy’s here. Let’s get you cleaned up. She carried Elliot to the sink, still whispering comfort, and ran cool water over the scrape.

 See? Not bad at all, she said, her voice musical and soothing. Just a little kiss from the floor. The little girl giggled through her sniffles, and Travis felt a strange, swelling warmth in his chest that threatened to spill out of him. Kylie watched silently from across the room, her expression a mix of wonder and quiet realization.

 “She always comes to you first now,” she said softly, almost to herself. Taylor looked up mid dab, her expression uncertain. “Really? Whenever she’s hurt or scared,” Kylie continued. You’re her person, Tay. You’re the one she runs to. Taylor blinked rapidly, torn between humility and awe. I don’t want to overstep, she said quickly, almost apologetically. Jason chuckled, shaking his head.

Overstep? Are you kidding me? Look at her. He gestured toward Elliot, now perched on the counter, beaming as Taylor wiped her knee dry. That’s not overstepping. That’s love. Travis’s throat felt tight. He couldn’t look away as Taylor reached into her purse and to his astonishment pulled out a box of colorful band-aids. She sorted through them carefully, then held one up with a grin.

 A butterfly for the bravest girl I know. Elliot’s eyes widened. You brought those? Taylor smiled. Always. You never know when someone might need a magic fix. She smoothed the band-aid gently over the scrape, kissed the top of Elliot’s head, and said, “There, all better?” Elliot looked at her knee solemnly for a moment, then broke into a radiant grin. “Thank you, Mommy. I love you.

” The kitchen went silent. Taylor’s eyes softened and without hesitation, she replied, “I love you, too, baby girl.” She kissed her forehead, and that was it. The moment was sealed, simple, sincere, and absolutely unforced. Travis blinked hard. He could feel the tears pressing behind his eyes, the lump forming in his throat. He wasn’t a stranger to emotion.

 Football had given him plenty of reasons to cry, but this was different. This wasn’t about loss or victory. This was life showing him what love looked like in its purest, most unexpected form. When Elliot finally wriggled down and ran off to show Wyatt her magic band-aid, the adults were left in quiet awe. “She’s incredible,” Jason said finally, breaking the silence. “She really is,” Kylie added, her voice soft but certain.

“I’ve never seen the girls connect to someone like that. Not even with babysitters or friends.” “Taylor doesn’t just love them. She understands them.” Travis turned toward Taylor, who was standing by the sink, wiping her hands with a paper towel, her expression unreadable but tender. “I didn’t even think,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

 “I just reacted,” Travis stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “That’s what moms do,” he said gently. “They don’t think, they just show up.” Taylor smiled faintly, her eyes shimmering. Then maybe I’m learning from the best,” she said, glancing toward Kylie with a kind of sisterly warmth that made the older woman’s eyes misted over. Kylie nodded.

“Maybe, but I think you were born with it.” As the laughter and clatter of dinnertime resumed, Travis found himself leaning against the doorway again, just watching. The love, the noise, the chaos, it all blurred around the edges. What remained clear, sharp, undeniable was the sight of Taylor Swift kneeling in the soft kitchen light, comforting a crying child who called her mommy and meant every word.

 And in that moment, Travis realized something terrifyingly beautiful. This wasn’t temporary. This wasn’t play acting family. This was real. Her breath hitched. You want kids with me? I want everything with you, he said simply. and I think tonight proved you want everything with me, too. Taylor’s lips trembled into a smile. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. You make it sound so easy.

It is, he whispered. When it’s right, a single tear slipped down her cheek. “I love those girls, Travis,” she said softly. “I really, really do. I know they’re not mine. But when Elliot called me mommy and looked at me like I was her whole world, I felt it. That thing mothers talk about that fierce protective love that’s bigger than fear.

Travis swallowed hard, brushing the tear from her face with his thumb. That’s because it is real love. Blood doesn’t make it stronger. Time does. Choice does. You showed up, Tay, again and again. And they saw that. For a while they sat there in silence, their foreheads touching, breathing the same quiet air.

 Outside, a light snow had begun to fall. Soft, slow flakes catching in the headlights like tiny stars. When Taylor finally spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Then I guess this is what forever feels like.” Travis smiled, pulling her closer. “Yeah,” he murmured. “And I’m never letting go.” The next morning, the Kelsey household woke up to a rare quiet.

 The usual soundtrack of cereal bowls clinking, cartoon music blaring, and tiny feet thumping down the hall was replaced by soft whispers and the smell of coffee drifting through the kitchen. Kylie was already at the table, hair in a messy bun, a mug cradled in both hands. Jason shuffled in a few minutes later, wearing sweatpants, a faded eagle’s t-shirt, and the sleepy expression of a man still processing the night before.

He poured himself a cup, then leaned against the counter, staring out the kitchen window. For a long time, neither spoke. Then Jason exhaled deeply and said what they were both thinking. Last night didn’t feel real. Kylie smiled faintly over her cup. It was real. I’ve got the tear streaked pictures to prove it. Jason chuckled under his breath. You were crying before dessert.

 You were crying before me. Kylie shot back, smirking. Jason grinned sheepishly. Yeah, well, seeing all four of our girls call Taylor mom in the same night, I wasn’t built for that kind of emotional ambush. Kylie’s expression softened. You weren’t the only one.

 She set her mug down and looked toward the living room where Bennett and Wyatt were sprawled on the rug, coloring together. They adore her, Jace. I knew they loved Taylor, but last night it was something deeper. Jason nodded slowly, still staring out the window. Wyatt’s always been observant. She doesn’t just follow what we say. She feels things. If she’s calling Taylor mom, it’s because she means it. And then Elliot.

 He trailed off, shaking his head. That kid ran right past us like we were invisible. Straight into Taylor’s arms. Kylie smiled, a mix of pride and something almost wistful, because she knew where comfort was. Jason turned, leaning on the counter. And Bennett, man, when she said mama like that, I thought my heart stopped. Kylie laughed softly, wiping at her eyes again. I know.

 It wasn’t even a baby sound. It was clear as day. She paused thoughtful. I think what got me most, though, was Finley. Jason looked surprised. Yeah. Kylie nodded. She’s been so quiet, so cautious about everything. But when she reached up and said it just once, that little mama, it was like she was joining the others. Like she wanted Taylor to know she felt it, too.

 Jason rubbed the back of his neck. Do you ever think about what that means for them? The girls, I mean, in what way? He hesitated, searching for words. They’ve always had us, a stable, happy family, but now they’ve got more. This extended family, Taylor and Travis. And somehow Taylor’s love doesn’t feel like an addition. It feels like it’s always been there.

 Like she’s been woven into their story from the start. Kylie nodded slowly. That’s because she doesn’t try to fit in. She just belongs. She’s never treated them like someone else’s kids. She treats them like her girls, too. Jason sat down across from her, his expression thoughtful.

 You know, Trav told me once that he wanted a partner who understood family the way he does. I think he found her. Kylie smiled softly. He did. And the girls did, too. For a moment, they sat in quiet understanding. Then Wyatt’s voice rang out from the living room. Mommy, can we FaceTime Taylor? Both Jason and Kylie froze midsip. Kylie turned in her chair.

Why do you want to call her baby? Wyatt’s answer was simple and devastatingly pure. Because I miss her. Jason looked at his wife, eyes wide, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well,” he said quietly. “Guess that settles that.” Kylie laughed, brushing at her eyes. “Yeah, they’ve made their decision.

” Jason leaned back in his chair, sighing in that proud, exhausted way only fathers do. “You know what, Kai? I’ve seen a lot of big moments in my life. Super Bowls, retirements, crazy stadiums full of people. But that moment last night, watching all four of our girls pile around Taylor calling her mom. That might have been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

 Kylie reached across the table and took his hand. Because it wasn’t about us, she said softly. It was about love finding its way. The kind you don’t plan. The kind that just happens when it’s right. Jason nodded. Travis doesn’t even know how lucky he is. Oh, I think he does,” Kylie said, smiling. “And so do the girls.

” They sat there for a long time, drinking coffee and watching the morning light spill across their kitchen, the sound of children’s laughter drifting in from the next room. And in that quiet space, Jason and Kylie realized that love wasn’t about titles or bloodlines. It was about belonging. The kind that didn’t ask permission. It just showed up and stayed.

 The sunlight is barely coming through the curtains, soft and golden. But I haven’t been able to sleep since dawn. I woke up with that same feeling I used to get after a concert. The silence that follows the noise when your heart is still beating too fast and you don’t know how to come down from it. Last night keeps replaying in my head like a film reel I can’t turn off.

 Wyatt’s tiny voice asking for help with her shoes. Elliot crying and running straight into my arms. Bennett’s wide smile when she said, “Mama.” And Finley, sweet, gentle Finley, touching my face and whispering it like she’d known that word was meant for me all along. Four girls, four moments, one impossible, beautiful truth.

 They see me as something I never thought I could be to anyone. A mother figure. When I first met them, I was terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing. I’d never been around children for long stretches of time. My world has always been studios and airplanes, lights, and schedules. But being around the girls, it’s like learning a language I was born to speak, but had forgotten existed. I don’t plan the things I do with them.

It’s all instinct. When Wyatt trips, I reach out before I even think. When Elliot’s voice waivers, I know the right words to soo her. When Bennett laughs, I find myself laughing, too, as if her joy rewires my own. And when Finley falls asleep in my arms, something inside me just settles. There’s a strange kind of peace that comes from being needed like that.

 Not as a performer or a celebrity, but as someone who makes small people feel safe. It’s grounding in a way nothing else ever has been. Last night after the girls went to bed, Travis asked me how it felt. I told him the truth. It felt like the most natural thing in the world and it scared me because it was so natural. I’ve written love songs all my life about passion, heartbreak, longing, hope.

 But there’s a quieter kind of love I never fully understood until now. The love that asks for nothing and gives everything. The love that shows up holds space and stays steady through the noise. When Elliot wrapped her little arms around my neck and whispered, “I love you, Mommy.” I felt it. Something break open inside me.

 The part of me that’s always been chasing, striving, proving finally went still. I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve that kind of love, but I want to. God, I want to. Travis looked at me like he saw everything I was feeling before I even said it. When he said, “You’re not just part of my world. You are my world.” I thought my heart might actually burst. Because it’s not just about him anymore. It’s about them.

Those four girls who trust me, laugh with me, climb into my lap, call me mom. They’ve given me something I didn’t know I was missing. A glimpse of the kind of future I’d always written about but never fully believed I’d live. I can see it so clearly now. Sunday dinners, messy kitchens, school plays, music lessons, sleepy good nights, Travis laughing in the next room, the girls running through the hallway, their cousins chasing after them.

 A house filled with noise and love and the kind of belonging that doesn’t fade when the cameras turn off. Maybe that’s what real family is. Not just blood, not just names on paper, but the quiet everyday moments that add up until one day you realize this is home. I think last night changed me. Maybe it changed all of us. And if I’m lucky, I’ll spend the rest of my life being Mom Taylor.

 Not because they need me to be perfect, but because they already decided I was enough. She pauses, then adds one final line. They picked me and for the first time in my life, I don’t want to run from that. I want to stay. By the time the dishes were cleared and dessert had been replaced by laughter and half empty coffee mugs, the house had softened into that late evening glow that only family homes seem to have.

 The fire crackled gently in the living room, the air thick with warmth and the faint scent of Kylie’s vanilla candle. The older girls were winding down. Wyatt sprawled on the floor drawing with her markers. Elliot humming to herself as she tried to braid a doll’s hair. And Bennett toddling between laps with her blanket clutched like a prized treasure.

The baby Finley was the quietest of them all. At 11 months old, she was still figuring out the world one curious glance at a time. She didn’t cry much, but her dark eyes were always searching, absorbing, studying. And tonight they seemed fixated entirely on Taylor. Taylor was sitting cross-legged on the rug, humming softly while Wyatt showed her a sketch of a unicorn.

 Finley sat in her lap, little hands tangled in the hem of Taylor’s sweater. Every few seconds, the baby would look up and just stare. Travis noticed. Of course he did. He always noticed when Taylor was with the girls. Something about the way she looked holding Finley. careful but fearless, gentle but strong, did something to him.

 It was a glimpse into a future he’d imagined but never dared to put into words. When it came time to say goodbye, Taylor naturally ended up with Finley in her arms. It wasn’t planned, just instinct. The baby had been passed from person to person throughout the evening, and when she grew fussy near the end, Taylor had simply taken her.

 and Finley, as if she’d been waiting for that all night, had gone still the second she was in Taylor’s arms. Jason and Kylie stood by the door, helping the older girls find their shoes and coats, while Travis grabbed their jackets from the closet. That’s when it happened. Taylor was swaying gently with Finley, her lips brushing the baby’s hair as she whispered something soft and wordless. The light from the porch lamp spilled over them. a golden quiet kind of halo.

Finley reached up, her tiny fingers brushing Taylor’s cheek and then clear as a bell, she said, “Mama.” It wasn’t a babble, not mama ma like babies sometimes do. It was full, solid, deliberate. Taylor froze mid-motion, her breath caught audibly. She looked down at Finley, whose wide brown eyes were gazing back at her with complete certainty.

Jason, halfway through zipping Wyatt’s coat, turned sharply. “Did she just?” “She did,” Kylie whispered, a hand coming to her mouth. Travis’s world tilted. He turned, his jacket forgotten in his hands as the moment unfurled in slow motion before him.

 Finley’s small hand patted Taylor’s face again like she was confirming something that needed no translation. Mama,” she said once more, softer this time, as if it were a secret just between them. Taylor’s lips parted, trembling. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed. And that’s when Travis broke. He dropped the jackets, his vision blurring instantly.

 “Oh my god,” he whispered, voice cracking. “All four of them. They all see you as their mom.” The words slipped out raw and unfiltered, heavy with realization. Taylor looked at him, still rocking Finley gently. Around them, the house seemed to hold its breath. Wyatt had stopped talking. Elliot was peeking from behind Jason’s leg. And even little Bennett was standing still, thumb and mouth, eyes big and thoughtful.

 Kylie stepped closer, her own expression one of astonishment and tenderness. “You know what’s wild,” she said softly. Finley hasn’t said any clear words yet. just sounds babbles. But that she nodded toward Taylor. That was intentional. She knew. Jason exhaled, his voice quiet but steady. It’s not a coincidence.

 Every one of them, Wyatt, Elliot, Bennett, and now Finley, they all picked her independently without anyone teaching them to. Taylor’s hand came up to cover her mouth, tears spilling freely. now. Finley’s head rested on her shoulder, completely content, as if she’d said exactly what she needed to and was done for the night. This is really happening, isn’t it? Travis murmured.

 They don’t just like you. They don’t just think you’re fun. They They know. They’ve made room for you in their hearts like you’ve always been there. Taylor’s voice shook when she spoke. I don’t even know what to say. I never thought she stopped, looking down at the baby in her arms. They’ve chosen me, haven’t they? Kylie’s eyes glistened. They have.

 All four of them. They’ve decided your family. You didn’t just walk into their lives. You became home to them. Jason nodded, smiling through damp eyes. And for the record, you’ve made our home better, too. Travis couldn’t stop staring at her. Taylor stood in the middle of the entryway, surrounded by his nieces, Wyatt hugging her legs.

 Elliot clinging to her hand, Bennett toddling close, Finley asleep in her arms, and she looked radiant. Not glamorous, not like the superstar the world knew, but like the beating heart of a family. He didn’t even realize he’d spoken aloud until he heard his own voice again. Low and cracked and honest. “This is what I’ve been dreaming about,” he whispered.

 “I just didn’t know it until now.” Taylor looked up at him, eyes red but glowing. Travis, but he couldn’t stop. The words tumbled out, unstoppable and true. You don’t just belong here. You are here. You’re part of this. You’re part of us. Silence. Then Jason smiled through his tears. Welcome to the family, Taylor. Officially.

 Wyatt, never one to miss a moment, grinned up at Taylor and announced proudly, “See, I told you we picked her already.” The adults laughed, their tears mixing with the sound of children’s giggles. And for the first time, Travis realized he wasn’t watching a moment happen. He was standing inside the beginning of forever.

 The Pennsylvania sky was ink black by the time Travis and Taylor finally stepped out into the cold. The air bit at their cheeks, their breath visible in soft clouds beneath the porch light. Behind them, Jason and Kylie’s front door still glowed warmly, silhouettes of children waving good night through the glass.

 Taylor carried the faintest trace of baby powder on her sweater, and the sleepy warmth of Finley’s last cuddle still pressed against her chest. Travis watched her as they walked down the short path to his truck, her hair loose and tassled, her eyes distant, full of thoughts she hadn’t found words for yet. When they climbed in, neither of them spoke.

The engine’s quiet hum was the only sound between them as the house disappeared in the rearview mirror. For a while, the world outside was nothing but the rhythmic sweep of headlights and the soft murmur of the radio playing some old eagle song. Travis’s hands gripped the steering wheel loosely, but his heart was racing like he’d just played over time. He glanced sideways at her.

 Taylor, her gaze fixed on the window, her expression peaceful but overwhelmed. The kind of look people wear after witnessing something holy. That was Travis started then stopped, his voice catching. I know, Taylor said softly without looking at him. I feel like my whole world just shifted. They drove in silence for a few more miles before she added quietly.

 I’ve sung in front of hundreds of thousands of people, Travis. I’ve stood on the biggest stages in the world, but nothing nothing has ever felt like tonight did. He smiled faintly. Yeah, he said. Me, too. Taylor turned to him, studying his face in the dim light of the dashboard. You cried, she said gently. Travis let out a shaky laugh. I did. Didn’t even try to hide it.

 I liked it, she whispered. It felt honest. He looked at her again. Really looked. You don’t get it, Tay. I’ve always known you’d be incredible with kids. But watching them, my nieces, and call you mom tonight, watching you be that person for them without even realizing it, that was,” he trailed off, shaking his head. It was everything I didn’t know I needed to see. Taylor’s eyes softened.

 It didn’t feel forced, she said. When Wyatt asked for help, when Elliot ran to me, when Bennett said, “Mama, I didn’t think. I just did. It felt natural. She paused, her voice trembling slightly. And that scares me a little, Travis frowned. Why? Because I didn’t expect to love them like this, she admitted. It’s one thing to care about your family.

 It’s another to feel like they’ve become mine, too. I don’t ever want to take that for granted. He reached over, his hand finding hers on the center console. You’re not taking anything, he said quietly. You’re giving. And they feel it. Taylor’s thumb brushed against his palm absently, tracing invisible circles.

 You really think they see me as that? A mom? Travis nodded slowly. They don’t just see you that way. They chose you. Wyatt doesn’t hand out that kind of title lightly. Trust me. Taylor smiled through her tears. She’s a tough critic. She is, Travis said. But tonight, she looked at you like you hung the moon.

 They both laughed softly, but there was a wait behind the laughter, something tender and permanent. When they pulled into Travis’s driveway, neither of them made a move to get out. The house sat quietly before them, the porch light casting a soft pool of gold over the front steps. For a long time, they just sat there, the night wrapped around them like a secret.

 Travis finally broke the silence. You know what I kept thinking about on the drive home? Taylor turned to him. What? That I’ve spent my life chasing things. Trophies, championships, goals. But nothing I’ve ever won compares to what happened tonight. Because tonight wasn’t about me. It was about us. About family.

 Taylor blinked and tears glimmered again in her eyes. You really mean that? He nodded completely. I want this, Taye. All of it. I want the chaos and the noise. I want Sunday dinners and bedtime stories and little fingerprints on the walls. I want you and them and someday our own.