Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“I’d be honored to walk you down the aisle,” he says roughly. Tammy wraps her arm around his shoulders, then covers her mouth with her fingers and whimpers.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“Anything for you, honey.” He reaches across the table to take my hand, and tears spring to my eyes as I reach out for him.
“Also, you guys should know you’re going to be grandparents again,” I say, and my dad’s hand tightens around mine.
“Really?” Dad asks.
“Really,” I say as Gaston’s lips touch the side of my head.
“I’m so happy for you.” He looks at Gaston. “Both of you.”
“Really happy,” Tammy says, and I smile at her.
“Mom, do you have a minute?” Gaston asks with his cell phone on speaker between us.
“Yeah, is everything okay?”
“Everything is great. Chrissie is here with me, and we have news.”
“You’re pregnant,” she screeches, making me giggle. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Mom.”
“I need to go; I have to book my plane tickets. Love you, and see you both soon. Also, I’m so happy.”
“We kind of got that,” Gaston says drily, and I laugh as he hangs up the call.
I rest my hands against his chest and tip my head back. “Everyone knows.”
“Everyone knows.”
“Everyone is happy.”
“Yeah.” He touches his lips to mine; then I slide my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. My mom said she wanted me to find the kind of happiness that is soul deep, and I know I did just that.
Epilogue
HAPPILY EVER FOREVER
GASTON
With my daughter asleep in my arms and her mother asleep in the hospital bed, exhausted after sixteen hours of labor, I lower my lips to the top of my girl’s head and breathe in her soft scent. After I’ve gotten my fill, I whisper quietly, “I wish you were here, Dad.” I know he’d be happy for me. He’d be pleased that I found a woman like Chrissie to spend my life with, and he’d enjoy every second with his granddaughter.
“He’s here.” I lift my head and find my mom standing just feet away with a cup of coffee in her hand. I didn’t even hear her come in.
“I know; I just wish Chrissie and Penelope had the chance to meet him.”
“He’s a part of you—one of the best parts of you—and for the rest of your life, you get to share him with your girls.” She smiles sadly. “He was a good man.”
“He was,” I agree, and she nods as she comes closer.
“He’d be proud of you, not because you’re as successful as you are but because you found someone worthy of you to share your life with. I’m glad he found that, too, before . . .” She cuts herself off as pain slices through her features. “I’m glad he found love.” She reaches out for Penelope, and I carefully hand her over, watching as she curls my little girl against her chest. I study my mom—one of the most amazing and loving women I know—and hate that she’s never allowed herself to share that love with anyone. When I was in my twenties, I asked her why she didn’t want to settle down. She explained that after watching my grandmother stay in a marriage because it was the right thing to do and growing up in a home filled with resentment, she promised herself that she’d never settle.
“Will you ever be open to the idea of falling in love?” I ask her, and she lifts her eyes off my sleeping girl to smile at me.
“I fell in love the day you were born, and now, with Chrissie and this little one, I get to experience falling in love all over again.” She kisses the top of Penelope’s head, and I pull in a sharp breath. Hearing that, I realize something I haven’t before. Both my mom and dad taught me about love and family in their own way. My mom taught me how to be happy on my own, and my father taught me to be open to the idea of love. I had the best of both worlds, and because of the two of them, I was able to recognize love when I found it.
“Love you,” I say gruffly.
“I love you too,” she whispers. I see every ounce of love she has for me shining so brightly that I feel it sear through me, and I hope when I look at my wife and my daughter they feel the exact warmth I’m feeling right now.
CHRISSIE
“Cheers.” I hold my margarita glass out toward Leah, and she lifts hers out toward me, then stops.
“What are we toasting to?” she asks, and I look around her backyard at our growing families and say the first thing that comes to mind.
“Happiness.”
“I’ll definitely toast to that.” She clinks her glass against mine, then takes a drink, and I do the same.