Two months later

“You need to relax,” I tell Denise as she sits down in the chair in Steve’s office, her leg bouncing up and down.

“I don’t understand,” she starts. “He got the results this morning, and he wouldn’t even show me.” Today is the day we get the results back from his last treatment. I’m a nervous wreck, but it makes me feel better to calm her down.

I put my hand on hers. “Breathe,” I tell her, and she leans forward and runs her hand in my growing hair. Hair that now matches Jack as his is growing back. The knock comes, and I look at the door, and it opens and Steve walks in with Jack who comes over and sits on my lap. “Did you have a good visit?” I ask him about the visit he wanted to do with the nurses, showing off his new hair. Even though we are always here volunteering or picking up Denise. It’s different for him, so I watch Steve go around the desk and sit.

“Thank you for coming in,” he says, looking down, and I hear Denise groan. He looks down and laughs a bit.

“Spit it out.” She gets up now. “Or I swear …”

“I got the results back from the blood we drew last week, and,” he says, looking down and then up again, “I’m happy to say that from this his T-cells counts are normal. Jack, you, my friend, are in remission.”

“Oh my god,” Denise says from beside me, sobbing out, holding her chest as she cries. Grabbing Jack from me, she buries her face in his neck. I lean over, taking both of them in my arms as we cry around Jack.

This, right here, the support she’s given us, the love she gives me and my son every single day.

“I have to call Janet,” Denise says, and I just nod at her. Evie got her results yesterday, and like Jack, she is going to be okay.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” I tell Steve, kissing Jack’s head now that Denise gets up and goes to call Janet. “You saved him.”

He shakes his head. “I wish I could take the credit, but I can’t,” he says, smiling and getting up. “Jack, now that you’re going to be better, what are you going to do?”

“We are going to Disneyland,” he says to Steve, and he throws his head back and laughs.

“As soon as the season is over, we are going to go to Disneyland,” I tell Steve. “It’s a family trip.”

“Michael is coming too and maybe Evie,” Jack says, and I get up and walk out of the room. I spot Denise at the nurses’ desk as she cries in Mallory’s arms.

I walk to them, and Mallory smiles at me. “Go celebrate,” she whispers to Denise, and she nods at me. “We need a picture for our wall of fame,” Mallory says, and I grab Denise, bringing her to me and kissing her tears away.

We pose for the photo, both of us squatting down next to Jack, and the picture comes out perfect.

We get in the car, and I slowly make my way over to Long Island. “Are we going to Max’s?” she asks while she texts. “I’m texting them with the good news,” she tells me, and I don’t answer. Instead, I keep driving. I pull up in front of a house where I spent the past two weeks coming anytime I had free time.

“Where are we?” she asks, and I open the door and get out. Walking around the car, I get Jack out. I look and see Denise standing there looking up at this gray two-story house with a wraparound white balcony.

Six steps lead to the white front door, which is half glass. I grab her hand, intertwining it with mine, and I walk up the steps with her following me. “What is this?” she asks again, and this time, I take the key out of my pocket.

“Welcome home, baby,” I tell her, turning the key and watching her face turn to shock. “I know I should have talked to you first.”

“You bought us a house?” she asks, shocked.

“I did,” I tell her, opening the door and pushing it open. Putting my hand on her lower back, I usher us inside the room.

She steps in and sees the winding staircase. “This is beautiful,” she says.

“Surprise,” Jack says, laughing as he jumps in front of her. “It’s for us,” he says, smiling. “I got a new room.”

We walk in as she takes in all the work that we’ve done over the past two weeks. Pictures of us hang on the walls, all of our furniture new and just delivered.

“What do you think?” I ask once we walk into the family room that is attached to the giant kitchen. “I know it’s a far commute, but we have the car, and the train station is a five-minute drive.”

“I think,” she says. Turning in a circle, she sees the whole back of the room windows open, letting you see the huge yard with an inground pool and play area.

“I think this is the most beautiful house ever.” She smiles at us, and I nod at Jack. “And is that all the furniture that I was looking at with you?” she says, spotting all the items I made her choose on Sunday while we lounged on the couch. It became a game of which one do you love better.

I grab her hand and get down on one knee, Jack following my position. Her mouth opens, and a gasp escapes her. “You came into our life at the dreariest moment,” I say, looking over at my son and thinking about how far he’s come since he’s been here. “You took us into your heart and showed us a love that is unconditional.”

“I love you,” she says, tears pouring down her face. “Both of you.”

“You taught us that being loved is something that makes you a better person, that when you have this love, you can take on the world.” I smile when her cries get a little louder, and she uses one hand to rub away her tears. “I want you to love us for the rest of your life. I want you to be by me when we have small problems and when we have huge ones.” I smile through my own tears. “Denise, would you do us the honor of marrying us and making us the luckiest guys alive?”

“Yes,” she whispers at first. “Yes, I will marry you,” she says. “I’d marry both of you, today, tomorrow, and every single day after.”

“She said yes, Daddy,” Jack says, throwing up his hands. “Everyone can come out now,” he says, getting up, and I see Denise look around while our family members come into the room, shouting with happiness.

“Congratulations.” Allison is the first one to hug her and then my mother follows.

“Can I put the ring on my fiancée?” I ask them, and they look at me as I slip the four-carat princess-cut diamond on her finger.

I lean down to kiss her, and she wraps one hand around my shoulder and puts one hand on my cheek. “I forgot one big thing,” I whisper to her. “She signed the papers.” Chantal signed the divorce papers; she tried to get the prenup to stand, but when we got confirmation from the tabloid that they paid her for the scoop, it made the contract null and void. In the end, she got the house in Arizona, where she lives by herself, and I got to marry the woman who was made for me.

“Even Jack?” she asks me, and I nod. She signed away all rights to him.

“He’s ours,” I tell her, and she leans in, and right before she kisses me and seals the deal, she says, “You’re both mine.”