“You always do.”

Neal kisses him again, and then they’re walking through the Whitlys’ front door and letting Sunshine off his leash to rush over to Jessica, barking enthusiastically, as Neal holds up a sheaf of documents. He wraps an arm around Malcolm’s waist, glowing with the kind of happiness that doesn’t happen often in a lifetime.

“You’re going to have to to make a Christmas list for an actual human child next year, Jess.”