Page 112 of The Last Thing
By some miracle,Sophia is asleep in the backseat of the car as we drive home from the airport.
She was up bright and early for our flight this morning and was wide awake for the whole plane ride. I passed out on Wilson’s shoulder because I might’ve stayed up a bit too latewith Frannie and Kennedy, but I regret nothing. Right now, though, I’m excited to get home, unpack and settle into life.
I spent so much time resisting and holding back from Wilson. I want to jump in now and really build a life with him. Become the family we’re meant to be.
Beside me, Wilson drums his thumb on the steering wheel, which wouldn’t be weird, except there’s no music playing. I’m convinced Sophia could sleep through anything, but I wasn’t going to risk playing music once she fell asleep.
“Are you okay?”
Wilson quickly glances at me before looking back at the road. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, that’s not convincing. What’s wrong?”
He swallows hard. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” But he lets out a weird high-pitched laugh.
My stomach knots with worry. He’s acting weird.
Out of nowhere, he brakes, flicks on his turn signal and pulls into the driveway of a house a block and a half from home.
He shuts off the car, panting a little.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you having a heart attack? Should I call 911?”
He huffs out a laugh, then turns to me and cups my cheek. “I’m okay, Hellion. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. You’re stuck with me.” He looks at the house behind me. “Depending on how you feel about what I have to show you, you might bereallystuck with me.”
The concern in my gut fades, curiosity taking over. Then I remember he was planning some surprise.
Slowly, I turn to look at the house, and I realize it’s the same one I thought was cute on Halloween. I remember the mischief that danced through his eyes when I said that.
Throwing my door open, I climb out of the car, eyes still glued to the house. “What did you do?”
He laughs as he walks around the car to me. “Let’s wake up our girl so I can show you both at the same time.”
My heart stutters at his words.Our girl. That’s what I want her to be one day. If she’s okay with it.
Wilson opens her door and leans in. “Soph, baby, wake up.”
“Hm?” She blinks a couple of times and looks around. “Where are we?”
“Hop out, and I’ll tell you.”
She blinks a few more times, then yawns before climbing out of the car. She looks around as we walk down the driveway toward the front porch. Finally realizing where we are, she squints as she looks up at Wilson.
“Wait, why are we here?”
“Trust me.”
He leads us to the front porch, then pulls out his key ring, where his half of the heart still sits, and unlocks the front door. Swinging it open, he steps aside to let us in. “Welcome home.”
I stop short as I take in the adorable living room in front of me, filled with a mix of mine and Wilson’s furniture. His rug, my couch, his oversized chair.
On the walls are some of his photos, some of mine, and photos of the three of us, including a framed one of our most recent ultrasound.
Then my eyes drift to the open kitchen and backyard beyond.
“This is our house?” Sophia asks, eyes comically big. “Oh my gosh!” She goes tearing through the living room and into the kitchen and dining area that opens up to it in the back of the house, then disappears around a corner.
I look back at Wilson, utterly shocked.
