One Year Later
I slide out, feeling the loss of her warmth immediately. Turning to my side, I gather her in my arms and hold her against my chest. She rests her cheek over my heart, the way she does every night, and begins to trace my arms with a fingernail.
“I love you, Grace Williams,” I murmur into her hair.
Hearing it never gets old. She probably gets tired of me using her full name anytime I talk to her, but if she does she never says anything about it. Secretly, I think she likes it as much as I do.
I run my hand over the smooth curve of her hip, letting it come to rest on the small swell of her belly. When she’d told me she was pregnant, I was ecstatic. I’d never really thought much about having kids, never really thinking it was in the cards for me. I figured that I’d spend my life riding out the waves solo. But then I met Grace and I couldn’t imagine a life without her. A baby seemed to be the perfect addition to our future together.
But as time went on, the excitement had begun to turn into fear. The more her body changed, the more I began to worry.
“What is it, Bronn?” she asks, her head tipping back. I lean forward and capture her lips with a kiss. “Mmm. Don’t think you can kiss your way out of my question. I know that look. Something’s bothering you.”
I swear, sometimes I believe that she really is a superhero. Her special power is the gift of mind reading. Either that or she’s some sort of clairvoyant, because she always knows when I’ve got something on my mind, no matter how hard I try to keep it from her.
“What if…” I stop, not sure how to put my worries into words. I don’t want her to think that I’m second-guessing anything.
She grasps my chin with her thumb and forefinger. “What?”
Embarrassed to even be saying it aloud, I cut my eyes away from hers and mumble, “What if I’m not a good dad?”
Her sharp intake of air causes me to look back at her, and I see her eyes softening. “Oh, honey. Why would you think that?”
I laugh bitterly. “Well, I don’t exactly have the best role models for that sort of thing. And what if parenting is genetic? What if it’s in my DNA to be a shitty dad?” It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but the fear is legitimate.
What if there’s something deep rooted inside of me that will dictate how I parent? I already love the baby that Grace is carrying, and I know that I would do anything for both of them. But what if I can’t handle it when our child arrives? I’ve never once dealt with a crying child, what if it overwhelms me? I could never live with myself if I turned out to be just as bad as my father. Or worse, distant like my mother.
She pushes up on her elbow and shoves at my shoulder until I’m flat on my back. Looming over me, her eyes are intense as she tells me, “Shitty parenting is not genetic. Your parents weren’t just bad parents, they weren’t good people either. But you are not a bad person.”
I’m sure that her words are meant to reassure me, but they only serve to make me feel worse.
I may not be a bad guy now, but I was never a saint. I’d spent years channeling my anger into the wrong things. I’d grown up hating a man that wasn’t even the bad guy, while adoring a man that was.
It had been a year full of ups and downs. I’d turned over the tapes that I’d gotten from Tony to the attorney that Grace had hired. He’d wasted no time getting the murder charge downgraded to involuntary manslaughter. Grace’s dad had more than served enough time to cover the mandatory sentence for the charge, so he’d been released not long after the new evidence was introduced.
After I’d used a little bit of manipulation and done some arm twisting to get the tapes from Tony, he’d skipped town. I probably should have kept my cool, gone a different route to get the information I wanted from him, but not once had I regretted my tactics. The end result has been more than worth it.
Mickey Chumley had welcomed me with open arms, never once using my lifetime of hate against me. He and Grace had forged ahead in their newfound relationship, and I’d made it a point to never interfere with that.
I had a bit of difficulty getting used to having Mickey in my life. The past was something I wasn’t proud of, but Grace had assured me that she understood. It had taken some time, but we’d finally gotten to a good place, and I found that I enjoyed spending time with her dad.
He was quickly filling the role that I was so desperately missing in my life.
Dani had been crushed when I’d told her what I learned about our dad. She knew that he wasn’t a model citizen, but it was still hard on her when Mickey’s claims were confirmed. However, she hadn’t let that stop her from continuing her friendship with Grace and accepting Mickey as part of our family. I couldn’t help but admire her ability to bounce back from hardships and keep a positive attitude. But how could I have ever thought she would do anything differently? She’d spent her whole life keeping a positive attitude about me.
When she learned that Grace was pregnant, and that I was going to be a father, she had never been more excited in her entire life. She’d already begun planning a baby shower before the day was over.
“Bronnson, did you hear me? You’re going to be an amazing father.” Grace’s face is hovering over mine, her eyes blazing. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that you won’t be.”
I grasp each side of her head and pull her face to mine. “Say it again,” I tell her before kissing her hard.
“You’re going to be an amazing father,” she whispers between kisses.
“Say it again,” I tell her more urgently, needing to hear it one more time.
“You’re going to be a fucking amazing father,” she says fiercely.
My chest swells, but doubt still niggles in the back of my mind. “How can you be so sure?”
She arches an eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across her glowing face. “Have I ever been wrong before?”
I want to challenge her, but I can do nothing more than shake my head. She’s always been right, about everything throughout our entire relationship. If she says that I’m going to be okay—that we’re going to be okay—then I believe her. “Besides, there’s no one else I would choose to be the father to my son.”
My heart skips a beat.
Fuck.
A son.
A buddy to take fishing. I may have never enjoyed fishing before in my life, but there’s always time to start.
A little guy to throw the ball with in the yard. Thank God, we sold the boat and bought a house.
A little boy that I’ll be able to teach—to show him right from wrong.
A man that will take after his mother and see only the good in people. A child that I will love, and that I will never hesitate to tell how much he means to me.
I know that along the way I’ll make mistakes, what parent doesn’t? But I will never let my child think that he is anything less than the very best thing his mother and I will ever do.
I look into her eyes and whisper, “Grace Williams, you are amazing. More than I could have ever dreamed I would have. I will never, ever stop trying to be the man you deserve.”
Her eyes fill with tears, but she beams at me, a wry smile still lighting her features. “Bronn, you’ve always been the man I deserve.” She laces her fingers through mine, resting our hand on her swollen belly. “As long as you’re holding my hand, there will never be a single thing we can’t get through. It’s you and me. Forever.”