“And Alyssa can be the ring bearer or flower girl or maid of honor.”
I laughed. “I was thinking best man, but okay.”
“That’s for Ryder, don’t you think?”
I smiled. “It is. I’m here tonight because he gave me a metaphorical kick in the ass. I owe him.”
We headed back to the house where Sinclair packed up her things. “We should wait until Alyssa gets back. She’ll want to see that we’re good. She’s been worried about it.”
Guilt hit me in the gut. “Fuck. I tried to act right.”
She pressed her hand to my chest. “You did and I appreciate it. But there was no hiding your pain.”
“She didn’t think I’d leave, did she?” All of a sudden, I worried I’d messed up big time. I couldn’t have my child worried I’d leave her.
“No. She was afraid we’d divorce, but she knew you wouldn’t leave her.”
“I won’t leave you either.” I pulled her hand to my lips, kissing the inside of her wrist.
A few minutes later, a car pulled in and Alyssa rushed out to where Sinclair and I were sitting on the porch.
“Daddy!”
I scooped her up and hugged her. “How’s my gal?”
“Good. We went to see a movie. It was funny.” She looked over at Sinclair and then me. “Are you taking us home?”
My heart wept with joy. “Sort of. I’m bringing your mom home tonight so you can have your fun with your grandparents.”
I nodded to Sinclair’s parents as they came up the steps.
“I can’t come?” Alyssa asked, giving me
her pouty lip. Usually that worked on me to give her what she wanted.
“I thought we were baking cookies tonight,” Sinclair’s mother said.
Sinclair came up to me and Alyssa. “You and your grandparents have lots of fun planned. Besides, it’s just one night. We’ll come get you tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart,” I said. “I’ll never leave you, Alyssa. That you can always count on.”
She grinned and gave me a hug. “Okay.”
“Alyssa, go with Grandpa inside and have him get the flour and sugar off the shelf,” Sinclair’s mother said.
“Okay.” She trotted inside behind her grandfather.
“I take it all is well now?” Sinclair’s mother asked.
I put my arm around Sinclair. “It’s perfect, Mrs. Simms.”
She smiled. “Good. Now skedaddle. I’ve got a cookie-making date with my granddaughter.”
I drove home holding Sinclair’s hand as I couldn’t not touch her. The house was dark. I could hear the TV on in my mother’s granny unit.
“We’ve got the house to ourselves,” I said. “Where do you want to start?”