Page 160 of The Wrong Groom

Gabriel echoes my thoughts as we pass by the kitchen for the second time. “Can’t you just picture Peyton running down the stairs on Christmas?” he says softly. “That cat sitting in front of the fireplace? Our little one…” He pauses, letting his hand linger on my abdomen. “Learning to crawl in this living room?”

“I can already see it,” I reply, resting my hand over his. “I can’t wait for that. For all of it.”

I twist in his grasp to kiss him. This kiss is sweet and slow. It feels like it spans years, decades, in this living room. I’ll kiss him like this when we’re both old, when our children have grown. When the world looks radically different, this kiss will feel the same.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “Peyton will be home from school soon. I’m sure she’d love to know about her future sibling.”

I breathe in, a flutter in my stomach. I’m sure he’s right, that Peyton will be thrilled, but I hesitate, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over me. “I know she’ll be excited, but… do you think she’s ready for this? For the change?” My voice is quieter now, uncertain.

Gabriel’s expression shifts, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a comforting gesture. “Peyton’s been through a lot in her life, but she’s resilient. And she has a lot of love to give. Trust me, she’s going to be happier than any of us.”

I nod, letting his reassurance wash over me. Then we make our way back through our new house, with its perfect kitchen and light, airy foyer.

For the entire drive back to Gabriel’s house, our fingers are laced together over the center console. He drives with one hand casually resting on top of the steering wheel, content to sit in LA’s traffic instead of weaving through the stagnant cars as he usually would. The drive takes twice as long as it normally would, but it feels like the blink of an eye.

When we finally arrive home, we’re greeted by the sound of laughter from the living room. Peyton is sitting on the plush rug, dangling a cat toy on a string. Pepper’s tail lashes from side to side as she tracks the movement of the little fabric fish, her pupils narrowed to slits in concentration.

Margaret, sitting on the couch, is the first to notice our arrival. She turns toward us, her polite smile widening into a genuine one when she sees our intertwined fingers. I haven’t let go of his hand since we left the new house.

“Welcome back,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

Peyton looks up, then drops the cat toy and scrambles to her feet. Pepper takes the opportunity to launch her attack, pouncing on the felt toy and pawing at it with her hind paws.

Peyton rushes over to throw her arms around me, and my heart warms as I hug her back. I fell for Peyton every bit as much as I fell for her father. She’s an amazing kid, sweet, bright, loving. I feel something inside me relax as Gabriel scoops his daughter up for a hug next. My hand rests on my belly. Whoever’s in here, she’s going to love them.

Gabriel meets my gaze. He raises an eyebrow, like he can hear my thoughts, and gives me a warm smile.

“I take it you two have things under control from here?” Margaret asks.

Gabriel nods. “We’ll get takeout for dinner. Thank you for everything, Maggie.”

“Have a nice night,” she responds, giving us both a knowing smile as she gathers her things. She gives Peyton a quick hug before making her way toward the door.

“So—takeout?” Gabriel asks, glancing from me to Peyton. “How do we feel about that?”

“Yay!” Peyton shouts. The kitten, alarmed by the sudden ruckus, runs over toward us with her tail puffed up. “Tacos!”

“You open to tacos?” he asks me. I smile, nodding. “Okay. Good. I’ll make the call.”

I sit in the living room with Peyton, laughing as we watch Pepper tear back and forth through a crinkly tunnel toy of hers, until Gabriel comes to get us for dinner. I help him set the table while Peyton unpacks boxes of Mexican food, practically bouncing up and down on her chair.

For the first few minutes of dinner, we’re all silent as we dig into our food. The quiet is comfortable, natural.

Then Gabriel asks, “How was school today, Bug?”

Peyton’s eyes widen. “Oh! I almost forgot to show you what I made!” She blinks at Gabriel. “Can I get up from the table? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He pretends to mull it over, then says, “Okay. As long as you keep your promise. Otherwise, I might have to eat all your tacos.”

With an indignant yelp, Peyton jumps to her feet and dashes toward the kitchen. She comes back carrying a piece of paper, which she lays proudly on the table.

“I drew a picture of our family!” she announces. The crayon drawing isn’t immediately legible, but luckily for me and Gabriel, the artist explains her work to us. She points at the figures on the paper one by one, starting with the smallest of the three people. “This is me, and this is Daddy, and this one is Alexis. And that’s our house behind us, and right next to me is Pepper.” She indicates a four-legged ball shape with a long tail.

“Ah, that makes sense,” says Gabriel, leaning over. “Was there a particular reason you made Pepper blue?”

“Johnny Fredericks used up my black crayon,” Peyton says, rolling her eyes.

“That’s a shame. But I like it the way it is,” Gabriel says. “It adds some nice color.”