Page 90 of Silver Fox's Secret Triplets
Ivy squeezed my hand once before heading inside to check on her mother and the triplets. I stayed on the patio, watching Bill work the grill and avoid eye contact with me. The silence between us held weight, but it wasn't the explosive tension from before.
"Beer?" he asked, nodding toward the cooler beside him.
"Sure."
He handed me a bottle, and we stood there drinking with the elephant in the room. Both of us knew we had to speak, but I didn't think he had a clue where to start. God knows I didn't either. The triplets' laughter drifted from the house, followed by Barbara's voice reading them a story.
"They're good kids," Bill said finally.
"They are."
"Smart. Elena's got Ivy's stubborn streak, but she's got your eyes." He flipped another burger, not looking at me. "Sammy's got your build. Kid's going to be tall."
I took a long pull from my beer, unsure where this was heading.
"I was angry this morning," he continued. "Still am, if I'm being honest. You broke a promise. A promise I asked you to make because I was trying to protect her."
"I know."
"But I've been thinking." He turned the burgers one more time, then set down the spatula. "Barbara's illness shook me. Made me feel like I was losing everything that mattered. Made me act like a man who thought he was running out of time to fix things."
I waited, sensing there was more.
"The truth is, I've watched Ivy for years. Watched her on those video calls, seen her in the background when she thought I wasn't looking. She's been different since she left. Quieter. More careful. I told myself it was because she was growing up and maturing." He finally met my eyes. "But it wasn't that. She's been carrying this secret, and it's been eating at her."
"Bill—"
"Let me finish." He held up a hand. "I don't like what happened. I don't like that you broke your word. But I've seen her today, and she's different again. The way she looks at you, the way she moves when you're in the room." He shook his head. "I haven't seen her look that alive in years."
His admission was weighty but I knew he was trying. "I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. "I should have kept my promise. Should have been stronger."
"Yeah, you should have." He turned off the grill, then looked at me again. "But you weren't, and here we are, three beautiful grandchildren I didn't know existed, and a daughter who's finally stopped looking like she's carrying the world on her shoulders."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"Are you going to marry her?" The question came out blunt, direct.
My throat tightened. "I want to ask her."
"Want to, or going to?"
"I'm going to ask her." The words came out strong despite me not truly having a plan. Still, there was no doubt in my mind thata proposal was the next step—and not out of obligation as Ivy feared, but because my heart couldn't live without her. "I love her, Bill. I've loved her for years, and I was too much of a coward to admit it."
He studied me for a long moment, and I saw something of Ivy in his careful assessment. "You know all the reasons this is a bad idea."
"I do."
"Age difference. The scandal it'll cause. The fact that you've had one of these already and this complicates everything."
"I know."
"You're set in your ways. She's got three kids and a sick mother. You don't know the first thing about being a father."
Each point landed with the accuracy of a man who'd been thinking about this all day.
"You're right," I said. "About all of it."
"But?"
