Page 162 of All I Have Left

He accidentally let Wesley slip out of his hands after a bathand it ended in a trip to the ER and two stitches in his chin. Frankie will not let him live it down and anytime he picks up anything, she mutters, “Don’t drop it.”

“I’m not talking about you dropping her,” I tell him, turning to face them. The summer sun filters into the room through the front windows, and this is what doesn’t seem real. He’s bathed in the most beautiful golden rays. “I’m talking about the boy I watched become a man, holding our daughter.”

His eyes meet mine, rocking Taliyah back and forth in his arms. “You know what doesn’t seem real to me?”

I step toward him, on my tippy toes peeking at Taliyah. She’s sound asleep in her daddy’s arms, so content, so absolutely perfect in every possible way. She looks… peaceful. As if there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. I know the feeling. Grayson has the uncanny ability to make you feel incredibly safe by the sound of his heart beating. A sound I’ll never take for granted again. “What doesn’t seem real?”

His eyes slide to mine and he blinks slowly. “That you haven’t left my ass.”

I wink at him. “I kinda like you.”

Leaning in, his lips press to mine. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving meher.” Sighing, we share a moment, one where his lips press to my temple and we’re lost in love with the little being in our arms.

That’s about all the quiet time we get before Frankie and Ethan show up with dinner.

“Don’t drop her,” Frankie snorts, walking into the house.

“What?” Grayson teases, as if he didn’t hear her.

Handing Ethan the bags of food, she rolls her eyes at her brother. “I know you heard me, asshole.”

Grayson’s injuries healed, and though he’s had two more surgeries for his hearing this last year, it hasn’t come back completely. And that’s okay. If that’s the worst of our worries, I don’t think that’s so bad. Some people are never the same after a traumaticbrain injury. They never have the same quality of life that they did beforehand. Sure, he struggles sometimes with migraines, ringing in his ears, vision loss, and hearing loss, but he’s recovered really well from a man who couldn’t even tie his shoes after the attack.

Josh and Kelly come through the door, Ethan juggling his son, Wesley, by an arm and a leg. “Dude, put your damn pants on,” he tells his boy, trying to put his pants back on. Little Wes, their fourteen-month-old son, can’t be tamed. He’s as crazy as Ethan was as a child. Unruly and listens to no one.

Frankie holds up Wesley’s foot with his Converse shoes. “Look what Ethan bought him.”

I laugh. “Oh my God, they’re so cute! I need to get Taliyah a pair.”

Grayson frowns. “No.”

“Why? Aren’t they cute? I can get them in pink.”

He shakes his head. “I think we’re going to disagree on what she wears.”

Frankie smiles. “I love that I can walk into a room and make you two fight. Makes me feel better that Ethan sleeps on the couch some nights.”

Grayson looks over his shoulder at Ethan. “Why do you sleep on the couch?”

He’s still struggling with Wesley’s pants and I notice he has applesauce in his ear from the squeezable pouch in Wesley’s hand. “Because Frankie snores.”

Frankie growls at him. “I do not.”

“You do,” I tell her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “Come look at my kitchen. I think I might start cooking actual food in it soon.” I’m not much of a baker. I hate cooking. Thankfully my mom has been cooking me meals for the last month of my pregnancy because without her, Grayson and I would have starved to death. I already told Grayson we need to build a mother-in-law house for her.

Frankie looks around the house, her eyes wide as she takes inthe shaker cabinet doors, the beautiful rich white oak floors, which expand into the family room with floor-to-ceiling windows. “Ethan, why is their house bigger?”

Grayson smirks, following us. “Because my di—”

“Grayson!” I gasp, not letting him finish and taking Taliyah from him. “Don’t say that around her.”

He gives her to me, winking. “It’s true though.”

“I beg to fucking differ,” Ethan adds, giving up on Wesley’s pants. “Fine, dude. Just run around naked.”

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