Page 70 of Bottle Shock
“She was,” Shannon says, smiling, though her eyes glisten. “And Lily is what we still have of her—the gift she left behind.”
I glance over to where Lily’s now sitting cross-legged onthe rug, Wayne beside her, both of them laughing at something on his phone.
I can’t imagine their pain, how they live with it, how they exist surrounded by their late daughter’s memories.
I lost my biological mom when I was six. Six short years, and they’re all I got. I know what it’s like to grow up with pictures instead of memories, and I can’t stop thinking about how lucky Lily is that her dad made sure those connections didn’t fade—that he gave her this piece of her mom to hold onto.
By the time Gavin comes back, there’s a heavy weight in my throat. I knew a little about Allison, but seeing her pictures—feeling the grief and love woven into every corner of this house—and realizing how much light Lily brings to their lives, it’s overwhelming.
Here I was, worried they wouldn’t like me, not realizing what a privilege it is to be invited into this space at all. To sit here among the reminders of the life they lost, the life Gavin still quietly honors every day.
And somehow, that makes me admire him even more.
The time for goodbyes comes, and Lily collides into Gavin for a hug, arms tight around his waist. He hugs her back, one hand in her hair, his voice low as he speaks to her.
“Remember what we talked about,” he says. “Be good for Grandma and Grandpa.”
“I will.” Her voice wobbles, but she smiles through it. Always so brave.
“Call anytime you want, okay?”
She nods, clutching him tighter.
He kisses the top of her head, then lets her go, brushing a strand of hair from her face before turning toward the door. His eyes are a little glassy, but he hides it well.
I take a step toward the door, but Lily turns and launches herself at me, her small arms wrapping tight around mymiddle.“Bye, Scottie. Will you come with dad when he picks me up so we can sing in the car again?”
Caught off guard, the weight in my throat only grows heavier. “Yeah,” I choke out. “I’ll come.” I smooth her hair, pretending my eyes aren’t stinging.
She pulls back just far enough to look up at me. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
She nods, satisfied, before running back to her grandparents.
I thank Shannon and Wayne again, but it feels hollow compared to what I want to say. There’s too much love in this house. Too much history. And I can’t stop thinking about how Gavin built this bridge for Lily out of nothing but devotion and grit.
As we approach his vehicle, Gavin opens my door for me before circling around to the driver’s side.
Once he’s settled, he rests his head against the steering wheel, exhaling. “Fuck, that was hard.”
My hands twitch, wanting to reach out and comfort him, but instead I keep them clasped in my lap. “Should we go back in and grab her?”
He snorts, angling his head to look at me. “No, even though I want to. I have to be the grown-up and trust that she’ll be fine without me.”
“She will,” I reassure him. “But she’ll miss you too.”
“You think?”
That little bit of hope in his voice, the obvious love he has for his daughter—it’s the wrong time, the wrong place, but my ovaries don’t seem to care.
I swallow, nodding. “Yeah, I think so.”
If we weren’t still parked in the driveway, I think I’d do something reckless—like climb over the middle console, straddle his lap, and finally soothe the ache betweenmy thighs.
Instead, I buckle up, the seatbelt snapping into place like the last line of defense keeping me from riding the man beside me until my knees gave out.
Gavin straightens, turns the ignition, and backs out of the driveway. Once we hit the highway, he glances over, a faint curve tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ready to get married?”
