“Anton—”
“I’m going to mess up,” he continues. Voice thick. “I’m going to be too protective. Too intense. I’m probably going to threaten every boy who looks at her and make you tell me I’m overreacting.”
I laugh through tears. “Probably.”
“But I will show up. Every recital. Every birthday. Every scraped knee and bad dream and first heartbreak.” His forehead presses against mine. “She will never wonder if her father loves her. And neither will you.”
I’m sobbing now. Full, ugly, happy crying.
“I really like this side of you,” I manage between gasps.
“What side?”
“The daddy side.” I cup his face, make him look at me. “The side that’s already planning dance recitals and threatening teenage boys. The side that wants to give our daughter everything you didn’t have.”
“Is it too much?”
“It’s perfect.” I kiss him. Soft. Salt from my tears mixing with the kiss. “You’re going to be an amazing father. Not because you know how. But because you want to learn. Because you care enough to try.”
He brushes away my tears with his thumbs. “I care because of you. Because you make me believe I can be more than what I was made to be.”
“You were always more. You just didn’t have anyone to show you.”
His arms tighten around me. Like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
We stay like that. Tangled together. Hearts beating in sync. No space between us.
“I love you,” he whispers against my hair. “You and the little one. More than I thought I could love anything.”
“We love you too.” My hand joins his on my stomach. “Both of us.”
He kisses my temple. My cheek. My lips. Then he shifts. Slides his arms under me. Lifts me effortlessly.
“What are you doing?”
“Shower. You need to eat.” He carries me toward the bathroom. “And we have somewhere to be.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
My stomach chooses that exact moment to growl. Loud. Embarrassingly loud.
Anton stops walking. Looks down at me.
I flush. “Don’t—”
“Was that you or the baby?”
“Both. Definitely both.”
He laughs. Actually laughs. The sound rumbles through his chest, warm and real.
“Shower first,” he says, still grinning. “Then I’m making you the biggest breakfast you’ve ever seen.”
“And then?”
“Then we go see your grandma.”
