My fingers twitch with the need to reach for her, but I hold back. “I’d like to think so. It’s comforting to think she’s watching everything. That she gets to see Emmy grow up.”
“I miss her,” Angie whispers the quiet confession, and a single tear falls down the side of her face, disappearing into her dark hair fanned out on the blanket. “I can’t imagine having a little girl of my own and not being able to see her grow up.”
“Do you want kids?” I stupidly ask.
We talked about it years ago—about our hopes and dreams for the future—but a lot has changed since then. All but this incessant ache to be near her.
A soft smile tugs at her lips. “Yeah. I do.”
My stomach sinks at the thought of her having Tyler’s baby, and a pang of guilt comes soon after, like the roll of thunder following a lightning strike. Will this longing ever go away? Or am I doomed to watch from the sidelines as my best friend overlooks what’s right in front of him? If I were lucky enough to call her mine, I’d never take her for granted.
Never.
“What about you?” she asks. “Do you want kids?”
I look back at the sky, ignoring the way my chest squeezes at the mere thought of her pregnant with my child instead of his. “Yeah. I’d like to be a dad someday.”
“You’d be great at it. I see the way you are with Emmy and Gracie. They’re lucky to have you.”
“Not as lucky as I am to have them.” I clear the lumpthat’s lodged in my throat and stand, dusting off my jeans. “I should get back to work. Do you want me to take her up to the big house?”
She runs her hand through Emmy’s blonde hair. “No. I think I’ll stay here a while longer.”
“Ok. See you, Angie.”
She waves. “Bye, Griff.”
Chapter 17
Stella Mia
? The Hardest Part - Olivia Dean
Angelina
Present Day
On topof the general exhaustion that comes from growing a human being, I’m emotionally spent by the time we make it back to the house.
“Stay there,” Griffin says, parking in my driveway.
“What—”
He’s out of the truck and rounding the hood before I get the words out.
When my door swings open, I try again. “What are you doing?”
He reaches across the seat and unbuckles my belt. “Finally gonna carry my bride over the threshold.”
If he wants to give me the princess treatment, who am I to turn him down?
Griffinslips one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back, and he lifts me out of my seat with ease. I grapple for purchase, my hands fisting in his shirt. We make it to the door in a few long strides.
“Keys?” he says.
“Not locked.”
“Baby girl, you're just begging for me to turn that ass red.”
