Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Everything he says is what I’m feeling. “That’s what I want to do.”
“And I support you,” he says, sending me a smirk. “I just don’t want you to be blinded by the fact that you have a kid and you’re trying to do everything to make it right for her. Make it easier for Arwen because you had such a good family dynamic. Not all kids from broken homes are broken.”
He’s a kid from a broken home, so I understand where his concern stems from. It’s unneeded, though. Still, my breath gets caught in my chest at his admission. I swallow, emotion lodged deeply in my throat as I meet his supportive gaze. “I want her for her, not because it would be easier, but because I love her.”
He nods, slapping my shoulder. “Then make it happen.”
“I will.”
“I know,” he says with a laugh. “I’m not the least bit worried.”
His confidence in me is unnecessary, but damn if it doesn’t feel good to have it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Before I even step through the door, Mom is on one side of me and Anya is on the other.
“How did this happen?”
“I thought you two were only friends.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
“Does she want you?”
“Do you even want her?”
“Will you live together?”
I blow out a breath, ignoring them both as I walk through the kitchen with them on my heels. I go to head upstairs where I know Audrina and Arwen will be, but I pause when I see Bluey on the big TV. I drop my bag on the stairs as both Mom and Anya continue their ongoing commentary.
“There is no chance she’s not yours. She looks just like you.”
“But my baby is there too. She’s covered in freckles.”
“Are you mad at her for hiding her?
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Honestly, you can’t be mad at her for reacting to your behavior. She was surviving just as you did, and we are just so proud of her.”
“I just wish we had been there.”
Me too.
Still, I ignore them. It’s best to do that when they’re on their soapboxes. When I enter the family room, William and Dad are in two recliners that mirror each other, with a couch between them. On the couch, cuddled in Ingrid’s arms, is Arwen, fast asleep. Her little lips are parted, her lashes kissing her cheeks as she sleeps soundly. Everyone else is watching Bluey.
“Told you guys it’s a good show,” I say as I approach the couch.
Dad chuckles as William nods. “So good. We’ve ordered a lot of Bluey things.”
I pause from where I am rubbing Arwen’s wrist. “I’ve only been gone three hours.”
“Just type Bluey into Google, and you can get products from everywhere.”
Jesus. I meet Ingrid’s gaze to find she’s watching me but not letting Arwen go. “Where is Audrina?”
“Taking a shower,” she says softly. “I ordered a lot of stuff too.”
“You guys are insane.”
“We’ve missed her birth, Christmases, and birthdays. We’re making up for that,” Ingrid says simply. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Maybe I should take Arwen shopping? Before I wake her to do just that, Ingrid tells me, “Plus, we’re going to look so damn cute in our matching black satin Dior robes.”
I scoff at that. “Because a two-year-old needs a Dior robe.”
“If she didn’t, they wouldn’t make it in her size.”
There is no arguing with my sister. “Smitten, I see.”
“Totally,” she answers, pressing a kiss to Arwen’s temple. “She’s perfect.”
“She is,” I agree, my voice soft and a little rough. My daughter is a stunning little creature, her hair all in her eyes, a rubber band where a pigtail used to be. She has something sticky on her lips, but even with whatever sugar she ate, she is knocked out. It has been a big day. “Did she have a bath?”
“Yeah. I helped Audrina do it, and then we came down for Bluey. But Audrina wanted a shower while Arwen was distracted.”
“Cool. I’ll take her up.”
Ingrid nods, letting her go, and I gather Arwen against my chest. She mumbles and whines a bit, but she settles, cuddling deep into me. I move a piece of hair out of her face and fall even more in love with her. Her little mouth is parted, her arm hanging limp, and I want to do nothing but hold her.
Before I can take a step, though, William is beside me, rubbing her arm, and then Dad is on the other side, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Easy to say, my baby has everyone obsessed with her.
“Will she come to the next game?” William asks, and I shrug. Dad and William have a suite in the IceCats arena. It’s a massive one that is fully dedicated to me. Photos of me growing up and playing hockey. My Team USA Junior and Olympic medals even hang in the suite. While my parents come to every game, they also donate seats to different charities all over town.