Page 160 of Love Felt Like This

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Post: A craft store video of Griffin Harvey with his arms wrapped around Beverly. Captions appear, forming the sentence as she speaks: “No, you’re great. A really great dad, Griffin. You know little things about her that some parents overlook. Ava’s lucky to have you.”

Comments

STOP. I JUST THREW MY PHONE AT WORK.

94

Dad? Daddy? Father??

70

don’t fuel my fanfiction like this.

20

Ava is such a pretty name too!

78

any guesses on the baby mama??

64

this is so clearly fake. learn to lip read.

4

REAL! There are pictures of her!

45

Beau confirmed it!!

136

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cavalry Is Here

Griffin

My soul cracked like concrete struck by an anvil when Rob showed me and Beverly the video of us at the craft store. But it crumbled and landslided into pieces when I saw pictures of Ava, shared for the world to see. Little moments at the diner, the thrift store, and the farmers’ market. Her face, spread everywhere online without anyone’s consent, including her own.

Jimmy called minutes later, regardless of it being five in the morning in California. I’ve heard this man grumble about “early mornings” until noon, but right now he’s never sounded more alert.

“I’m sorry, Griffin” were his first words, and it stitched a piece of me back together. “How’re you faring?”

I cleared my throat. “Fine. As fine as we can be.”

“And Ava?”

Across the room, Ava giggles on the crocheted rug on the floor, distracted by Bernie Bird set on Beverly’s arm. She squeals—not from fright of our situation but from joyful laughter.

“She has no clue,” I say, pacing away from the living room. Beverly’s head swivels to me, and I catch her gaze. She gives a weak smile. I return it. I wish I could still be immersed in the happiness we felt twenty minutes earlier. Instead, I walk farther down the hall, away from Bernie Bird’s over-the-top punch line squawks and my daughter’s squeals of joy.

Jimmy sighs. “She has no idea her life is about to change forever.”

I swallow, gritting my jaw and resting my palm on the frame of Beverly’s bedroom door. I’m not sure even I fully understand how much change is coming. I’m not sure my brain wants to process it.