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“Yeah.” I wipe under my eyes with the heel of my hand. “Just really fucking relieved.”

His expression softens. “Me too.”

I look down at the phone still clutched in my hand and remember there’s one more person who needs to see this.

“I need to send the report to my lawyer.”

Sumner leans back into his seat while I open the email thread. She told me to send the results as soon as they came in so she could deal with Grant’s attorney and make sure there wasn’t anything else we needed to do.

I attach the report and type out a quick message.

The paternity results came in, and Sumner is the father. I’ve attached the report. Please let me know if you need anything else from me.

I read it once, hit send, and drop my phone into the cup holder.

“There.”

Sumner takes my hand and brings my knuckles to his mouth, pressing a kiss against them before threading his fingers through mine.

For a few seconds, we just sit there in the cold air blowing from the vents while people push carts past the truck and hunt for parking spaces around us.

Meanwhile, the giant knot that’s been sitting in my stomach all week is finally gone.

Grant can’t claim this baby is his anymore. He can’t use paternity to force his way back into my life or hold custody over my head.

I squeeze Sumner’s hand.

“Can we go home now?”

His thumb moves over my knuckles as he shifts the truck into reverse. “Yeah.”

I settle back into my seat while Sumner backs out of the space with one hand on the wheel and the other still holding mine.

I look over at him and catch that giant grin still stuck on his face.

“You’re gonna smile like that all the way home, aren’t you?”

“Right now, baby, I feel like I’ll never stop.”

I squeeze his hand. “I hope you don’t.”

CHAPTER 32

GOLDIE

Twenty-Five Weeks:

Baby is approximately the size of a cauliflower.

The problem with watching The Day After Tomorrow with a man who literally flies airplanes into hurricanes is that every time the movie does something scientifically offensive, Sumner makes this low noise beside me like somebody just insulted his mother.

Or father, I guess.

Whatever.

He’s done it at least six times already.

“You know that can’t happen, right?” he asks when the temperature on-screen drops fast enough to freeze everything in its path.