Yep. This is it. It’s all I’ll ever need. This. Him. Right here.
I finish bringingthe last of the food inside, sorting it into containers and packing them into the fridge. It’s late, and I’m wiped—pregnancy’s kicking my ass. Matt and Jensen are still outside talking, and everyone else has gone home.
Tonight was perfect. Friends, family, laughter, even a few heated cornhole matches. It filled my birthday cup in every way imaginable.
I tug the overflowing trash bag from the bin, tie it tight, and head for the front door. As I round the corner, I almost collide with my dad.
“Holy shit, Dad! You scared me.” A breathless laugh escapes. “I didn’t know you were still here.”
He chuckles softly. “Sorry.” He sets down the framed picture that sits on the console table. His voice is quiet, reverent. “I was just looking at this picture of your mother.”
I study him, somber and distant. He forces a smile, but it drops as quickly as it comes, like holding it hurts.
The sight knocks the wind from me. My eyes burn, vision blurring as the ache swells sharp in my chest, stealing my breath. “I… miss her,” I whisper, voice thick and shaky.
Dad takes a deep breath, then exhales—slow, cheeks puffed, eyes brimming with tears. “I miss her too, Alley girl.” The words break on a strangled cry, and it guts me. She never got to see this. Him, sober. Me, married. The grandkids.
I take a shaky breath. “She’d be so proud of you, Dad.” My lips press tight as I try to hold myself together, but it’s useless—my birthday, the pregnancy hormones, the exhaustion. It all crashes over me.
He chuckles through his tears, voice rough. “No. It’syoushe’d be proud of. And dammit, it kills me she’s not here to see it. It should’ve been me. You all needed her. And I’ll never understand why it was her and not me.”
I don’t argue. I don’t need to. He knows we’re grateful he’s here. He knows we want her back. He knows he’s just giving voice to the thoughts that haunt him.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, needing to give him something good, something light in this moment, and hoping Jensen won’t mind I told him first.
A grin spreads across his face, breaking through the tears. He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “That’s the best damn news I’ve heard all year. Congratulations, Alley girl. You’re going to be a wonderful mother. I’m so happy for you both.”
I press my ear against his chest, squeezing tight. “Thanks, Dad. You’re already a wonderful grandpa.”
We stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the quiet of the house pressing in around us as we stare at my mother’s picture. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like enough—even without her. Because I know, wherever she is, she’s proud of us.
She’s proud of me.
I waketo Jensen in the bathroom and glance at my phone. It’s 1:06 a.m. I’d crawled into bed and passed out the minute my dad left.
A few minutes later, the bathroom light flips off and Jensen slides in quietly beside me.
“Did Matt just barely leave?” I murmur.
“Yeah. A few minutes ago.” He scoots in close, his arm slipping around my waist and pulling me against him. “Did I wake you?”
“Yes, but it seems like every little thing wakes me lately.” I yawn softly. “Guess it’s practice for never sleeping again once we have the baby.”
A low chuckle rumbles through his chest as his hand finds mine, weaving our fingers together and resting them on my stomach.
“I can’t wait to meet the little guy.”
“Little guy?”
He laughs. “Well, I don’t want to keep sayingthe baby, and it doesn’t feel right to call it anit. So until we know—he’s little guy.”
My bottom lip rolls through my teeth as my grin spreads wide. “Whatever you say, babe.”
His lips press softly against my neck, trailing down to my shoulder blade. “Did you have a good birthday?” he murmurs, breath warm against my skin.
“Mmhmm.” I press back against his sturdy frame, settling into the comfort of his arms.
“That’s good.”
