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Ronnie
Four Months Later
“Shit.” I cry out as the pan of pistachio macaroons falls to the floor. Those fuckers take so long to make, and usually, I enjoy every minute, but at the moment, I feel like a fucking whale, and everything is harder to accomplish. I sniffle and wipe at my tears, waddling over to sit down on the nearby stool just as Dane bursts through the swinging doors to the kitchen.
I pout, not even attempting to get down and clean up my own mess. Instead, I watch the sexy Chef kneel down and pick up everything.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Stop working. Or if you must stay, at least let me or Liberty help you.”
I nod, rubbing my large belly. I haven’t been working, just sitting behind the register. Dr. Lovejoy wanted me on bed rest, but I talked her into approving light work as long as I promised to stay seated as often as possible.
“I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to sit around when I notice things that need to be done.”
“This is your Bakery; you’ll always have things to do.”
“I blame you and Dominic for the success of this place.” I smile, thinking about opening night and what a great turnout it was. Dominic and Sophie even came into town to support me…and obviously, the opening of his new location, but I know they’re my cheerleaders too. They were both happy to hear about Dane and me, which surprised me a little since the guys don’t exactly get along even after the fiasco on Whisk-takers was sorted out.
Dominic sure surprised Dane, who was kind of expecting a fight to go down, especially since we also announced our pregnancy over the same dinner, but Dominic amazed us by showering us with congratulations.
“Let me take you home, baby.”
I nod and take his outstretched hand, and he leads us out. Kenny and Liberty promise to clean up, and I’m not worried about it. I trust my staff will do an excellent job like they were trained to do.
“Hungry? I could make your favorite stuffed ravioli. I have some already stuffed, ready to stick in the oven. Or I could fry them for you.”
“Mmm, you spoil me, my love.”
Just as we make our way onto the sidewalk, a man walking in our direction stops and waves. I smile and wave back even though I’ve never seen the stranger before.
“The fuck?” Dane says, grabbing my hand and pushing it down to my side, stepping protectively in front of me.
“What? Do you know him?”
At that moment, the older man reaches us.
“Dad.” The word is like gravel through his teeth.
No one nearby would hear any affection in Dane’s gritted snarl, but his father still stretches his hand in a much friendlier greeting.
“In the flesh. And you must be the Veronica I keep hearing about.”
I look to Dane for an explanation. Family stuff is messy, especially ours. We’ve talked a lot about the toxic people in our lives. Since we’ve been together, Dane has confided in me that his relationship with his father is rough. I told him it was perfectly fine to not want harmful people in his life. It’s not easy, but it feels much better to live on your own terms and not under the pressures of someone who just wants to take from you without any care about how you’ll be left once they leave.
This time he’s not alone. I’ve got his back.
“Her name is not your business. You need to leave. And stop talking to Sophie about me while you’re at it.”
“Your sister's not talking to me either. I had to learn about my grandchild from a tabloid.”
The narcissist’s words hit their target. Dane’s hand squeezes my shoulder for stability as he fights to keep his composure. He wants to lash out. Yell at his emotionally abusive father like he always does. Throw past and present mistakes in the man’s face. But that won’t do any good.
“I’m not sure why you sound surprised. You can’t expect to treat your children horribly growing up and think they’ll forget the kind of monster you are when they’re adults. I haven’t forgotten, and I won’t allow you to spew your toxins on my family.”
“I am your father, or have you forgotten all the things I taught you.”
The old man’s wrinkled face is beet red. His suit is perfectly pressed, but his tie is crooked, and he smells like bourbon.
Dane takes my hand and gives his father a hard look.
He steps up to his father with strength and calmness I’ve never seen in him before.
“I didn’t forget anything. Not a single insult or name you called me. I remember everything, Father, and now that I have my own family, I understand you don’t treat people that way. Thanks to Ronnie, I know what love is, and as kind as she is, she’s given me permission to never speak to you again and not feel bad about it.”
With those parting words, he pulls me in the opposite direction, and we leave all the bad blood behind us with his angry father.
We’re healing together from our past and ready for the next phases of our life together, learning how to be the best parents possible.
