Love Is A Miracle

Chapter 33

Zach POV

Birthdays stopped feeling like a big deal somewhere after thirty. Another candle, another joke about gray hairs, another polite round of you don't look a day over... But tonight felt different the second we walked into the restaurant.

It wasn't the place, though it was one of those warm, low-lit spots with dark wood walls and soft jazz humming in the background. It wasn't even the private room they'd insisted on booking. It was the people.

My people.

Nichelle's hand was warm in mine, her thumb tracing slow, absent circles against my palm the way she always did when she was tired. Pregnancy had softened her in ways I hadn't expected, rounder cheeks, a slower gait, a gravity to her presence that pulled my attention no matter how many conversations I was trying to juggle.

She was glowing, even in a simple dress, and I caught myself glancing down at her stomach more than once like I was checking in on a secret only the two of us knew.

Amira skipped ahead of us, already halfway to the table, braids bouncing as she turned back to grin. "Daddy, are they bringing cake or ice cream?" she stage-whispered, like the restaurant might be listening.

"Both," Jeffrey answered before I could, sliding in beside his wife with a smug smile. "Because your dad's old."

"Hey," I protested, laughing as George clapped me on the shoulder.

Danny and Michael were already seated, menus open but ignored, their wives leaning in close as they talked. Chantel waved from across the table, her eyes lighting up when she saw Nichelle.

My parents and hers followed close behind, Lisa immediately reaching for Nichelle's arm, Moira fussing over Amira's chair, Mr. Avery and my dad already locked into a low-voiced conversation that sounded like it had started twenty years ago and never actually ended.

We'd barely settled into our seats before Danny leaned back in his chair, looked around the table, and said, "So... who's got Zach crying first tonight? I've got five bucks on Moira."

"I do not make him cry," my mom said immediately. "He's just sensitive."

Jeffrey snorted. "Sensitive is a nice way of saying dramatic."

"I am sitting right here," I said, pointing between them.

"And aging," Danny added, grinning. "Don't forget aging. Another year closer to orthopedic shoes."

Nichelle laughed, covering her mouth. "He did complain about his knee yesterday."

"That was one time," I said defensively. "And it was a legitimate complaint."

Jeffrey leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You stretched?"

"I—"

"You didn't," Danny cut in. "Classic Zach. Thinks he's still twenty-five."

George shook his head. "He hasn't been twenty-five since we met him."

Michael lifted his glass. "Moment of silence for Zach's metabolism."

Amira giggled, swinging her legs under the table. "Daddy, what's a meta-bowl-ism?"

"It's when your body betrays you," Jeffrey said solemnly.

Nichelle rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, her hand resting on her stomach as Lisa leaned in beside her.

"How are you feeling tonight, sweetheart?" Lisa asked gently.

"Good," Nichelle said. "Tired, but good. He's been hovering."

"I have not been hovering," I said automatically.