Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Theo carried the truck seat with one hand and led me to the couch with his other. He sat me down, bent lower, and kissed my forehead. He then rested the truck seat beside me.
Everyone gathered around quietly. A room packed with nothing less than love.
They waited for Theo and me to formally introduce them to the perfect angel new to our complex, sometimes rocky, beautiful world.
I lifted our newborn into my arms. After, Theo moved the truck seat and sat directly beside me, our arms brushing gently against one another. I liked how whenever our skin brushed, waves of safety enveloped me.
“Well…” Nathan smiled as he wrapped his arm around Avery. “Who do we have here?”
“This”—I grinned—“is little Harold Michael Langford.” I turned to Molly and smiled gently. “Harry Jr. for short.”
Her eyes flashed with emotions as her hands fell to her chest. “Harry Jr. for short?”
“Yeah,” Theo said, a twinkle in his own eye. “Harry Jr. for short.”
I stood from the couch and walked toward Molly. “Would you like to hold him, Grandma?” It was the first time I called her Grandma, and she took note of it because from this point on, we were family. Maybe not by blood, but by heart. My heart beat in sync with my friend, who brought Theo’s and my worlds together. She would forever be my family, and I’d forever be hers.
“Can I?” Molly asked, her voice cracking.
“Always.” I placed little Harry Jr. in her arms, and he wiggled a little. His perfect little mouth, his button nose, and his blue eyes that matched his father’s were staring straight into her heart, and I could tell she’d love that baby forever.
“He has the Langford messy hair,” she joked.
“And the Langford heart,” I added in.
“Yes.” She held Harry Jr. close and breathed him in. “He has that, too.”
“Grandma, look,” Jensen said, running over to the window. “There’s a rainbow in the sky.”
Molly held Harry Jr. close to her chest as tears filled her eyes. She nodded slowly, uncertain how to take in the magnitude of what she was witnessing. PaPa was there with us, yet that shouldn’t have been a surprise.
He promised to always be around for the big moments.
By that point, everyone was crying.
When Dad held Harry Jr. for the first time, it was like watching my greatest hero hold my most prized possession. How lucky little Harry Jr. had been to have a lifetime of my father’s love.
“You know how big my love is for you, Little Bird?” Dad whispered to Harry Jr., placing a gentle kiss on my son’s forehead.
“Bigger than the sky,” I softly stated.
“Yes,” Dad agreed, looking at me with tear-filled eyes. “And deeper than the sea.”
Theo
One Year Later
Watching Willow become a mother was the greatest gift I’d ever witnessed. Seeing her look over our little boy healed a part of my soul that had been broken since childhood. I might not have been able to pick my mother, but I was able to choose the mother of my children, and I’d made the greatest choice when I chose my wife.
My wife.
My beautiful, silly, quirky wife.
Our wedding ceremony took place on our land, right on the dock of Westin Lake, where our love story first began. Avery and Yara were Willow’s maidens of honor—Anna was her maid of honor.
Watching Anna and Willow’s friendship heal over the years was the greatest blessing. Willow kept saying it was as if no time had passed between their connection, and Anna was such an amazing addition to Harry Jr.’s life.
We were loved to the fullest.
One of my favorite moments of the wedding day happened right before the wedding ceremony took place.
Michael stopped by my dressing room to speak to me. He came with a flask of alcohol and a smile on his face. When it came to great parents, Michael Kingsley was at the top of the list. When I was younger, I used to dream of having a parent like him, yet my mind believed that outside of my grandparents, great parents were only made in storybooks. That was until I saw the way Michael loved his daughters.
It was the definition of unconditional love.
“I just stopped by my daughter’s dressing room,” he told me, taking a swig from the flask. He held it out toward me. I took a swig, too. Whiskey.
It burned slightly on the way down. “How is she doing? Is she having cold feet?” I semi-joked.
“Not in the slightest,” he said as he slid his hands into the slacks of his dress pants. “Now, listen. Before you exchange your vows and whatnot, I wanted to take a second to say thank you.” He pulled one hand from his pocket and flicked his finger across the bridge of his nose. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter. Thank you for loving her with all that you have. Thank you for becoming her home.”