She looks up at me, a little smile on her lips. “That’s what I came here to say, you ass,” she says. “You beat me to it.”
I laugh and kiss her again. “I love you,” I say. “I love you.”
We kiss for a while. She whispers the words back to me, over and over again. “I love you, big Daddy,” she says in my ear as I pull her close against me.
I hug her tight, her beautiful body, her tiny little frame. Fucking hell, I love this girl. I’ll do anything for her.
Eventually we end up sitting on the couch, her feet in my lap, glasses of wine in our hands. I feel so relieved, like a weight’s been lifted, but we’re not done.
“So what did your mom say to you?” I ask her.
“Well, basically that I’m dishonoring my father, he’s rolling over in his grave, all that stuff. You?”
“That she’d sue me and tell the press how disgusting I am.”
She laughs a little. “Sounds about right.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Tell her the truth.”
I groan. “That sounds awful.”
“I know. But I won’t lie to my mom. That’s… part of this. Part of me being willing to do this.”
“Okay,” I say. “If you need it, you’ll have it.”
She smiles and leans forward. I give her a quick kiss.
“It’s going to suck,” she warns.
“I know.” I hesitate. “What will you do if she won’t forgive you?”
“I don’t know,” she admits. “Cry, probably.”
“Naturally.”
“I just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say softly.
We stay up late, drinking wine and talking about our future. By the time we go to bed around one in the morning, we have a pretty good plan for what we’re going to do.
In the morning, I make coffee and breakfast. She eats, but she looks nervous.
“It’ll be okay,” I say with more confidence than I feel.
“I know. I know. It’s just…”
“You’re afraid. I’m afraid, too.”
“She’s my mother. I just, I don’t know if I’m ready to lose another parent.”
I walk around the counter and hug her tight. I don’t know what else I can do. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now.
But I do know one thing. No matter what happens today, I’m always going to love her. I’m always going to take care of her. She’s mine, my Avery, my girl.
We finish eating and head out. We have one quick stop in jeweler’s row before we pick up my car from a nearby parking garage. Her mom lives north of the city, about an hour’s drive. It’s not a bad trip but we’re both on edge, worried about how her mother is going to take this.
We park the car out front. I remember this house from all those visits years ago. I can’t believe she still lives here, but it’s that same house.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“I guess.” She looks down at her fingers nervously. “Are you sure about this?”
I lean over and kiss her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
She smiles, nods, and we get out of the car.
Sam is waiting for us at the door. She looks like she wants to start screaming.
“Hell, no,” she says.
“Sam,” I say. “We’re just here to talk.”
“No,” she says again. “Avery, honey, you can stay. But he has to go.”
“Mom.” Avery takes my hand and squeezes it. “Please, we need to talk.”
Sam doesn’t move. She looks like she’s about to start screaming.
“You bring this to your father’s house?” Sam asks softly. “Your poor dead father’s house?”
“Mom,” Avery says. “Can we just go inside? You can yell at us there.”
“No. He’s not stepping a foot in my house. That rat bastard is ruining everything, ripping away my baby girl, and you’re all I have left.”
“I’m not going anywhere, mom,” Avery says. She releases my hand and steps forward. “Okay? I love you. You’re my mom. I don’t want to lose another parent.”
That seems to get through to Sam. She looks pained and takes a step toward her daughter.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks softly. “Is it just grief? I can understand if it’s just grief. It drives us to do crazy things, honey, but he’s not worth your time.”
“Mom,” Avery says, firmly this time. “We’re getting married.”
Avery holds up the ring we bought on the way out of the city.
Sam stares at the ring, stares at her daughter, and finally turns to me.
“You bastard,” she whispers. “You bastard.”
“Samantha,” I say, holding up my hands. “I love your daughter. I know this is hard, but it’s real.”
“No,” she says.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Avery says. “But please listen. I’m in love with Julian and we really are going to get married. It’s very, very real. You’re not losing me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you marry that man, I’m losing you. My husband and now my only daughter.”