Chapter 18 #2
“We’re here,” he says, slowing to a stop.
Wayne and Shannon, Allison’s parents, step out the front door.
My stomach tightens. It’s not that I don’t want to meet them—it’s just complicated.
They’re Lily’s grandparents. Gavin’s connection to them exists entirely because of her, not because he and Allison were ever really together.
But he’s kept them in Lily’s life, made sure she knows that half of her family.
Further proof he might be the best man I know.
I glance at him as he parks, wondering if he can read how nervous I am.
“They’re good people,” he says. “You’ll like them.”
“I hope they like me,” I blurt, then immediately wish I hadn’t.
He looks over, brow raised, amused. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t know. You’re bringing some random woman to their home. It’s not exactly a standard situation.”
“They’ll love you,” he says simply.
I don’t argue, but my hands twist in my lap anyway. It’s strange, wanting their approval. They don’t know what Gavin and I are—or aren’t—but some part of me still hopes they accept me. For what, I’m not even sure.
Shannon waves first—tall, elegant, her silver hair sleekly styled. Wayne stands beside her, hands tucked into the pockets of his vest, eyes soft as they land on Lily.
Gavin gets out and opens the back door. Lily jumps down and runs to her grandparents, shouting their names. Shannon scoops her up as Wayne ruffles her hair. They clearly love her.
I climb out, straightening the non-existent wrinkles from my top, trying not to feel like an outsider. Gavin is beside me in seconds, closing the door.
Shannon waves me over. “You must be Scottie! Gavin said you’d be joining us.”
I smile, stepping forward. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
She laughs. “Of course not.”
We chat for a few minutes, Lily proudly explaining our “car concert,” complete with her best attempt at reenacting my dramatic hand movements.
“Come in, come in,” Shannon says, ushering us through the entryway. “We just made a fresh pot.”
“Smells amazing,” I say, because it does, and because small talk feels safer than silence.
She leads us into a bright kitchen with bay windows that overlook a perfectly kept garden. Gavin takes a seat at the table while Shannon pours three mugs and slides one toward me.
Lily’s already halfway across the room, rummaging through a sideboard cabinet. “Grandma! Where are the albums?”
“In the bottom drawer, sweetheart,” Shannon says, smiling.
Lily reemerges a moment later with an armful of photo albums that look like they’ve been loved within an inch of their lives. She drops them onto the table with a thud and starts flipping pages.
“This is my mom.” She points at a photo of a woman holding a surfboard in one arm and throwing her fist in the air triumphantly with the other.
Up until now, I’d never seen a picture of Allison.
I lean closer, tracing the line of her smile. She’s beautiful—the kind of natural beauty people spend a small fortune trying to imitate. Her hair is lighter than Lily’s—blonde where Lily’s is brown—but her bright blue eyes, the shape of her face, the tilt of her chin—they’re nearly identical.
Lily glances up at me, proud. “She was really brave. She went skydiving once!”
“She sounds incredible,” I say, meaning every word.
Lily nods, still flipping. Every page tells another story—Allison on a mountain trail, Allison in front of a waterfall, Allison in some foreign city with streetlights reflecting off her sunglasses. The kind of woman who said yes to everything. Adventurous. Fearless. Well traveled. Just like Gavin.
I sip my coffee and look over at him. He’s sitting beside Wayne, the two men in deep conversation, not paying attention to Lily’s photo album presentation.
I can’t help the twinge of something small and stupid in my chest. Insecurity, maybe.
Allison is exactly the type of woman Gavin would end up with.
It’s no wonder he was drawn to her, and maybe they would be raising Lily together.
Happy. In love. A perfect fit. Life had other plans, of course, but it’s not hard to imagine that reality, and my heart aches for the little girl in front of me who will never experience that.
Gavin stands, excusing himself to use the bathroom, and Lily quickly redirects her attention to Wayne, begging him to tell her a story.
That leaves me and Shannon at the table, alone.
She studies me with a grin, but there’s apprehension behind it.“You and Gavin seem close,” she says gently.
“Oh—no.” The word comes out too fast. I shake my head. “We’re not…I mean, we’re friends. I’m close with Elyse—his sister. But Gavin and I are just…Gavin and I.”
Shannon’s lips curve, like she knows I’m full of it—just not for the reasons she thinks. “Well, that doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to me.”
I blink, caught off guard. “What doesn’t?”
“If you two were,” she says. “You know. Together.”
“Oh.” I laugh, but it sounds wrong in my throat.“We’re really not.”
“I believe you.” Her eyes are kind, her smile warm. “Maybe one day he’ll meet the right girl. He’s a wonderful father, but he’s also a young man.”
She looks down at her coffee before adding, “As long as that person is good to Lily and doesn’t try to push us away, I’d be thrilled.
Allison wouldn’t want the father of her child to be alone.
And we wouldn’t, either. If the roles were reversed, I’d hope Allison would find love, someone to love her and Lily. ”
Her voice softens on the last line, and for a second, I catch a glimpse of her grief.
I swallow hard. My throat burns, but I manage to nod.“She sounds like she was really special.”
“She was,” Shannon says, smiling, though her eyes glisten. “And Lily is what we still have of her—the gift she left behind.”
I glance over to where Lily’s now sitting cross-legged on the rug, Wayne beside her, both of them laughing at something on his phone.
I can’t imagine their pain, how they live with it, how they exist surrounded by their late daughter’s memories.
I lost my biological mom when I was six.
Six short years, and they’re all I got. I know what it’s like to grow up with pictures instead of memories, and I can’t stop thinking about how lucky Lily is that her dad made sure those connections didn’t fade—that he gave her this piece of her mom to hold onto.
By the time Gavin comes back, there’s a heavy weight in my throat. I knew a little about Allison, but seeing her pictures—feeling the grief and love woven into every corner of this house—and realizing how much light Lily brings to their lives, it’s overwhelming.
Here I was, worried they wouldn’t like me, not realizing what a privilege it is to be invited into this space at all. To sit here among the reminders of the life they lost, the life Gavin still quietly honors every day.
And somehow, that makes me admire him even more.
The time for goodbyes comes, and Lily collides into Gavin for a hug, arms tight around his waist. He hugs her back, one hand in her hair, his voice low as he speaks to her.
“Remember what we talked about,” he says. “Be good for Grandma and Grandpa.”
“I will.” Her voice wobbles, but she smiles through it. Always so brave.
“Call anytime you want, okay?”
She nods, clutching him tighter.
He kisses the top of her head, then lets her go, brushing a strand of hair from her face before turning toward the door. His eyes are a little glassy, but he hides it well.
I take a step toward the door, but Lily turns and launches herself at me, her small arms wrapping tight around my middle. “Bye, Scottie. Will you come with dad when he picks me up so we can sing in the car again?”
Caught off guard, the weight in my throat only grows heavier. “Yeah,” I choke out. “I’ll come.” I smooth her hair, pretending my eyes aren’t stinging.
She pulls back just far enough to look up at me. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
She nods, satisfied, before running back to her grandparents.
I thank Shannon and Wayne again, but it feels hollow compared to what I want to say. There’s too much love in this house. Too much history. And I can’t stop thinking about how Gavin built this bridge for Lily out of nothing but devotion and grit.
As we approach his vehicle, Gavin opens my door for me before circling around to the driver’s side.
Once he’s settled, he rests his head against the steering wheel, exhaling. “Fuck, that was hard.”
My hands twitch, wanting to reach out and comfort him, but instead I keep them clasped in my lap. “Should we go back in and grab her?”
He snorts, angling his head to look at me. “No, even though I want to. I have to be the grown-up and trust that she’ll be fine without me.”
“She will,” I reassure him. “But she’ll miss you too.”
“You think?”
That little bit of hope in his voice, the obvious love he has for his daughter—it’s the wrong time, the wrong place, but my ovaries don’t seem to care.
I swallow, nodding. “Yeah, I think so.”
If we weren’t still parked in the driveway, I think I’d do something reckless—like climb over the middle console, straddle his lap, and finally soothe the ache between my thighs.
Instead, I buckle up, the seatbelt snapping into place like the last line of defense keeping me from riding the man beside me until my knees gave out.
Gavin straightens, turns the ignition, and backs out of the driveway. Once we hit the highway, he glances over, a faint curve tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Ready to get married?”