My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 180

Chapter 180

“Do you

d be if you hadn’t

That night years ago, when you called Cas for help with

“Sometimes Usually when I’m watching him explain horse parliamentary procedures to our daughter

complete senousness

She laughed. He’s so different now. Still him, still all the political calculation and experience. But also–softer More human, even though he’s definitely not human

“Grace did that. You did that.” I held her closer. “You’re the one who told him to stop pretend

“I just called what I saw.” She was quiet for a moment. “Jeremy, the Council. The three who voted against the ceasefire. They’re still working against us, aren’t they? Cas hasn’t said much but I can tell

“They’re probing. Testing boundaries. Nothing overt enough to violate the ceasefire terms, but they’re definitely not accepting it peacefully.” I sighed. “Cas thinks they’re trying to cause friction within the coalition. Spread doubt about whether integration actually works.”

“And is it working?”

“No. If anything, the ceasefire has let the coalition consolidate more effectively. Given neutral supernatural communities time to observe and choose sides.” I paused. “Emma, I think we’re winning Not decisively. Not permanently. But the momentum is shifting in our direction.”

“Because of Grace.”

“Partly. Also because Aldric is genuinely reconsidering. Because fifteen Council operatives defected during the battle. Because every integrated community that thrives makes the separation ideology harder to defend.” I touched her face gently. “Because you offered a vampire lord a place in our family and he took it and now he’s in Grace’s drawings and her formal portrait plans.”

“All of that started because you were desperate and made a phone call.”

“All of that started because you forgave me when you had every reason not to.” I met her eyes. “Emma, everything good in my life traces back to you giving me a second chance I didn’t deserve. Grace exists because you stayed. Cas is Uncle Cas because you made space for him. The integrated world we’re building exists because you believed it was possible.”

Her eyes were bright. “That’s not–I didn’t do all that alone.”

“No. But you started it. You forgave the unforgivable and built something from the wreckage.” I kissed her softly. “Emma, I love you. More than I did seven years ago. More than I did yesterday. More than I’ll be able to express tomorrow.”

“Good.” She kissed me back, deeper this time. “Because I love you too. Even when you’re making deals with vampire lords and starting diplomatic incidents and letting our daughter plan formal portraits that will make the Council spontaneously combust.”

“Especially then?

“Especially then” She shifted position, climbing into my lap in the way that meant she was done talking Jeremy, we have the whole evening. No interruptions. No date gang horse politics No Council

crises. No coalition coordination”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Absolutely nothing productive.” She smiled against my lips. “We’re going to be completely unproductive for several hours.”

“I can work with that plan.”

We were alone. Together. Just the two of us in the quiet house, stealing time in the middle of chaos the way we’d been doing for seven years

The Council was still out there. Three members still working to undermine everything we’d built. Grace was growing up in a world where she needed vampire guards and formal portraits to make political statements. The ceasefire had four years and eleven months left, and then we’d face another vote, another decision, another battle maybe

But tonight, Emma was in my lap, kissing me like we had all the time in the world. Grace was safe with her grandfather, probably explaining vampire history to him in detail. Cas was somewhere in the pack house, probably working on diplomatic correspondence or reading intelligence reports or doing whatever ancient vampire lords did in their spare time.

Our family. Complicated, impossible, built from desperation and grace and the stubborn refusal to accept eight–hundred–year–old rules about who could love whom.

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