Chapter 32
On Saturday, the movers unloaded everything into their expansive new home.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed breathtaking views of snow-dusted peaks, while stone accents and warm wood finishes blended elegance with coziness.
The main room featured vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, a stone fireplace, and plush furnishings that invited relaxation.
The house was only three years old, the owner had anticipated a second home when they built it but decided Pleasant View was too cold.
A balcony overlooked the valley, and the house even boasted a heated driveway to combat the snowy winters.
After the movers left, Wade and Claire hung wedding and personal photos. The local designer Claire hired rearranged furniture and curated every corner of the home until it felt uniquely theirs.
By the time Wade washed up Bella for bed, it was almost ten.
He hoped she would adjust to her new bedroom.
They had recreated the familiar comfort of her old space, complete with her usual crib, sage green walls, and beloved toys arranged just right.
She cooed as they settled her. Her tiny hand clutching her favorite Kuki, her new name for her stuffed animal when she didn’t call him Dada.
As they stepped out of Bella’s room, he couldn’t resist scooping Claire into his arms.
“What are you doing?” She giggled, her breath moist against his ear.
“Welcome to our home again.” He carried her down the hall and into their master suite.
A king-sized bed rested beneath a canopy of soft lighting, and an en suite bathroom featured a spa tub and rainfall shower. He set her on the bed, brushing a stray spiral from her face.
“Our first home together.” She smiled, one just for him. She’d insisted on contributing to the monthly mortgage payments, but he had other ideas.
“Yes, it is. And what’s mine is yours now, too.” The bed dipped as he sat beside her and kissed her cheek.
He’d paid off the house, but suggested she take charge of groceries. He needed time to convince her they were a team, fully united.
“That was nice of you not to sell Albert’s house.” Her hands found his and settled them on her lap.
“Someday, Bella will have that choice to make. Not us.”
She leaned into him, her lips featherlight against his neck, sending a jolt through him. “I love you, Wade Stone.”
He turned, his gaze locking on her luscious green eyes. Amber flecks sparkled, an unspoken invitation swirling in their depths.
“I love you more.” He lowered his lips to hers. She tasted faintly of fruit and vanilla, sweet and intoxicating. Her hands slid up his arms, then to his neck. His pulse quickened, heat flaring as he found the curve of her lower back.
Their breaths mingled while they sank onto the bed. Claire sighed against him, breaking the kiss with a groan. “I wish we didn’t have to host a housewarming party tomorrow. I just want a day with my husband.”
“We can make the most of this time now.” He captured her lips once more. The blanket crumpled beneath them, cocooning them in a warmth that somehow erased the rest of the world.
The next day, they welcomed family and friends, new and old. Claire’s dad joined the celebration, along with the Weavers, Sophia, and Guy—Albert’s attorney—and their families. The house thrummed with the unmistakable energy of new beginnings.
The following week, they hosted Thanksgiving dinner, and despite Wade suggesting they hire a chef, Claire insisted they roast the turkey themselves, declaring it their new tradition.
Her resilience shone through when she baked cookies, burning the first two batches before nailing the third for their new mailman and garbage truck driver.
“We need to establish good relationships with those people,” she’d insisted amid their Thanksgiving preparations.
Some of Wade’s siblings couldn’t make it, but everyone anticipated the reunion the week before Christmas. Meanwhile, Bella crawled around the room, hauling herself up to stand whenever she managed. Her giggles rang out as she explored the new spacious play area with her cousins.
This year, God had blessed him with more than he’d imagined possible—a family of his own in Claire and Bella, something Wade hadn’t realized he needed, yet now cherished. With Claire, life was beautifully simple. He didn’t have to pretend or perform. He could be exactly who he was meant to be.
December swept in with a chill and snow, and Wade flew back for a set shoot in LA.
But his heart? It stayed in Pleasant View.
He missed the diaper changes, the baby babble, the bedtime stories, and the warmth of Bella’s fragile fingers clutching his shirt.
Most of all, he missed Claire, their new evening routine of board games, a random TV show that wasn’t Wade related, and their chats about their day as they now both sipped tea before bed.
At least he made it back in time for her show at the Christmas Market mid-December.
While Claire manned her booth, he worked remotely and tended to Bella.
He’d attempted working in his office while Bella crawled around and played with the blocks.
But the space wasn’t enough for her ambitious exploration.
They’d set up Claire’s jewelry studio down the hall, but between baby chaos and endless to-dos, neither of them had much luck using their designated spaces.
Maybe it was time to hire a nanny. He and Claire could both work from home while keeping Bella close. But could they trust someone else with their daughter?
A grunt caught his attention. Bella was trying to hoist herself up on the square walnut table, her fists gripping the edge, her features creased and determined.
“Careful, baby girl,” he whispered not to interfere with the virtual meeting.
The production team’s voices buzzed through the screen, discussing perfecting Punch Line to Glory’s final edits and nailing down distribution schedules.
But his gaze kept darting to Bella. She teetered, then plopped onto the rug.
His lips curved into a smile. Maybe the nanny could wait.
“The Hemisphere reached out—”
The loud thump, followed by a wail cut through his meeting. His head snapped up, and his stomach plummeted. Bella’s little body crumpled on the rug after she’d failed to steady herself against the coffee table.
“Bella!” He shot off from the sofa and scooped her into his arms. The delicate skin around her eye had reddened. She must have struck the table’s corner.
Her cries pierced him, twisting his insides tighter.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” The pain in his chest reflected in his strained voice.
He pressed his lips to her forehead as if the act could undo the hurt.
But his gaze kept flicking back to the offending table, its sharp corner a taunt.
That table would be gone by this afternoon.
The faint bruise blotched her skin. She wasn’t bleeding, but that didn’t ease his panic. He cradled her close and hurried to the kitchen. “Daddy’s got you.”
He slid out the first aid kit, Eric and Joy’s bonus wedding gift. He fumbled it open, grabbed the ice pack, and wrapped it in a dishcloth before pressing it gently to Bella’s face.
She let out a sharp cry and jerked her head away, shoving the pack like it had wronged her. “I know, baby. I know.” He crooned, rocking her back and forth. “It’s cold. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The words felt hollow, useless. What good were apologies when she kept getting hurt on his watch?
Her hiccupping sobs eased, and she buried her damp face against his chest. Tiny fingers gripped his shirt, holding tight as though he were her lifeline. Yet he was the one drowning.
What kind of father am I?
He didn’t remember Iris, his baby sister, taking this many spills when they were kids. Eric had managed to raise his kids without calling every corner a hazard. What was Wade’s excuse? His childhood? The neglect? What a weak justification for the reality.
Voices from his laptop carried through the house. His production team’s meeting wasn’t a priority now.
“Stone, are you there?” a voice called out. “Any thoughts on the postproduction cleanup timeline?”
Not now. He swallowed hard, his focus narrowing to the little girl in his arms. She needs me.
Well, maybe not him. He needed to call Claire. She deserved to know. Maybe she’d understand he might not be cut out for this. Still cradling Bella, he dialed his phone, his fingers trembling. The red mark on her temple was small, but it glared like a neon sign flashing failure.
“Hey.” Claire’s warm voice sounded after a few rings.
“Bella fell.” His throat tightened, and the words came out rough. “She was pulling up on the coffee table, and I shouldn’t have been working.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s got a little mark.” It sounded worse out loud. Bella’s cheek was pressed against his chest, his shirt wet from where she’d been gnawing on the hem. “The Weavers could do better than me.”
“Wade.” Claire’s voice dipped, serious now. “Don’t say that. She could get hurt with her grandparents or even me. It happens.”
But it didn’t, not on her watch. Or Eric and Joy’s. Or even his mom’s.
“Please don’t beat yourself up. Take a breath, okay?”
Wade exhaled, his grip tightening on Bella as if she might slip away. “Thanks, Cupcake.”
“I love you,” she said, clearly aware he needed it. “Give her a kiss for me, and I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Can’t wait.”
But as he ended the call, his gaze landed on the coffee table—Claire’s pick, one with sharp edges and an unspoken grudge against crawling babies. He’d haul it out himself if he had to. Claire could pick something else, that wouldn’t turn milestones into ER visits.
If Bella was racking up injuries while crawling, what would happen when she started walking? Did he have it in him to survive that stage of tumbles and tears? Or worse, would they all be better off without him?
The thought struck deep, rooting and spreading like a shadow in his chest. It clung to him in the days that followed until the reunion week with his family.