30. Chapter 30
“Fusilli. Fu-silli, foo-silly,” Ella dances in her seat as she attempts to pronounce her and Princess Blanca’s favorite pasta. “Do you like fusilli, Daddy?”
It’s an absentminded question, one she has no idea means everything to me.
Daddy.
My throat tightens, and I have to swallow hard before I can answer.
“I love it,” I manage, shoveling a little more pasta in my mouth before I make it too obvious I’m an emotional wreck over my daughter choosing to call me Daddy on her own.
Tiff’s sitting opposite me, and when I catch her eye, she gives me a soft smile.
This is it.
This is what I fought for.
Everything I ever wanted.
The girl of my dreams is smiling at me, and our daughter is calling me daddy.
They’re the family I’ll fight for no matter what.
I stretch my foot under the table, past Ella’s chair, and gently knock Tiff’s foot with mine. She traps my ankle between hers, keeping me in place.
Did she really think I’d move? After everything?
Not fucking likely.
Ella’s recounting everything she remembers about the game, but I’m not really listening. I’m too lost in Tiff’s beautiful green eyes. I swear I can see specks of gold in them when they’re bright enough, and tonight, they’re the brightest I’ve ever seen.
“Then Zach threw the ball and Reese caught it.”
“What happened after?”
“They scored,” she says.
“Well done, Princess,” I say. “With that kind of logic, you’ll be a better player by the time you’re four than I ever was.”
“Four?” She raises her hands and starts to count her fingers. “One. Two. Three. Four.” Then she shows me her hand proudly.
“That’s right! Good girl.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.
There it is again.
Will it ever stop feeling like a squeeze of my heart when she mentions it?
I hope not.
The front door clicks open, followed by a loud thud of a bag dropping to the floor. Zach’s voice carries down the hall. “Something smells delicious? I hope you haven’t started eating without me?”
Ella squeals, her hands squishing the pasta in her bowl in excitement. Tiff bats her hands away just as Zach walks in, arms wide, as he looks between us.
“Seriously? How many touchdowns have my team got to score to get a little respect around here?” he jokes as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Didn’t you only score one?” I say. “Reese and Sebi did the rest.”
Zach stops and turns to look at me with mock audacity. “Wow, Nicks. Ever the comedian.” He walks further into the room. “Maybe I should convince Coach Summers to let you on the team for a day, and then we can see how easy it is.”
I stab a piece of pasta with my fork. “Don’t worry. I think we all know I’m not about to steal your spot.”
“No, you’d need a miracle and an offensive line willing to throw themselves in front of traffic.”
Touché.
“What took you so long?” Tiff interrupts our banter. “You said you were following us home, and it’s been three hours.”
He sighs before kissing Ella on the forehead and giving her a small hug before standing up straight.
“Got caught up. There were a few NFL scouts at the game watching me tonight. Coach Summers and my agent, Will, forced me to hang around and schmooze.”
“What teams?” I ask, intrigued.
“The Night Owls, the Rattlesnakes, the Crossbills,” he lists them out as though they aren’t the most impressive teams in the league right now. That’s the thing about Zach. He’s the ultimate humble bragger, but for some reason, it’s not annoying.
“Wait, aren’t they all playoff bound?” Tiff asks.
Zach nods.
“I thought you were pretty much locked in with the Rome Raptors? Didn’t their GM come out and pretty much say you’re all he thinks about at night?” she asks.
I snort. “If Zach’s keeping a grown man up at night like that, someone needs to check his work-life balance.”
Zach tries to hide a smirk by crossing his arms, but I see it. I’ll break him eventually.
“Yes, even though the Raptors are most likely to be my team, I have to be nice to everyone. They could hold my future after my rookie contract after all.” He lets out a low, almost hesitant laugh as he takes a seat at the table next to Tiff.
There’s a moment where he studies the honeycomb tattoo on his forearm.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, placing a hand on his arm.
He gives her a small, pitying look, and they say so much to each other without saying anything at all. Their bond is unmistakable, and I guess that’s what happens when you have a reckless idiot as the father of your child.
Not anymore. She won’t have to lean on Zach anymore, because I’m here, and I’m ready.
“Just not sure if I should leave here,” he says quietly.
It’s not here he’s worried about. It’s Honey.
I glance at Tiff, widening my eyes. He doesn’t know. He has no idea Honey intends on leaving this place, and he wants to stay, for her. For a girl he hasn’t been dating for over a year.
I’d call him pathetic, but I can’t talk. Against all odds, I chased the girl of my dreams and it worked.
“Uncle Zach. Why are you sad?” Ella asks.
Zach glances at her, and he somehow manages to muster a smile for her. “I’m not sad, Ella-bear. I’m just tired. Winning games is a lot of work.”
Ella’s not convinced. She opens her arms out, reaching for him, and he pulls her out of the chair. Then she gives him a hug, making Zach smile. “Mommy says cuddles always make you feel better.”
He bops her nose. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”
“I know.” She pats his cheek. “Do you want some fuuu-siiillli? It’s the best pasta.”
“Yeah.” He kisses the top of her head. “That sounds good.”
She guides him through plating up the pasta. How much pasta he should have, how much sauce, and when he’s ready to eat, Tiff takes his hand for a second.
“It’ll all work out, Z. I promise.”
“Thanks.” He gives her a small smile, looking unconvinced as he takes a bite of his pasta. Then he focuses all his attention on Ella while he eats, asking her intricate questions about Princess Blanca.
I catch Tiff's eye across the table, and we share a look of helpless understanding. Zach bottles up his feelings, and Honey has no idea what she wants. It’s a mess, but there's nothing we can do.
Nothing anyone can do when two people love each other this much and still can't figure out how to make it work.
After dinner, I carry Ella upstairs while Tiff gathers her pajamas. She insists on brushing her own teeth, and by the time Tiff’s reading her a story, she’s already blinking slowly and heavily.
I sit on the floor with my elbows on my knees, watching them both.
I don’t deserve them.
These two perfect beings have been dropped into my lap, and I will do everything in my power to make sure I am worthy of them.
When Tiff finishes the book, Ella holds out her arms to me. I move to my knees and lean in. She wraps her little arms around my neck and kisses me on the cheek.
“Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Goodnight, Princess,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
Tiff adjusts the blanket over her small frame, brushing the hair off her face tenderly. We tiptoe out together, and I flick the hallway light off as we go, leaving the door cracked open just a little.
When we’re both in the hallway, Tiff leans her back against the wall, looking up at me with those big, green eyes again.
I rest my hand on the wall above her and lean in to kiss her forehead.
Do I want to do more? Yes.
But I don’t.
“Goodnight, Tiff,” I whisper.
She doesn’t answer, but as I back away, ready to head to the guest room filled with Zach and Honey ghosts, she grabs my shirt.
I stop, watching her intently.
Her eyes search mine before she tips on her toes and kisses me quickly.
“I love you,” she says.
It’s just three words, but she gave me no warning.
My heart forgets how to beat.
She must read the shock on my face because her lips twitch. “Breathe, Jamie.”
“You—” I shake my head, not trusting my own ears. “What?”
“I love you.” She says it again as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I stare at her, searching for the hesitation. The “but I'm still figuring things out.” The careful qualifier she's always attached to how she feels about me.
It's not there.
“I almost said it at the game,” she says softly. “When Ella was asleep on your chest and you were watching Zach play like you actually cared about the result.”
“I did care about the result.”
“I know. That's the thing.” Her thumb traces the fabric of my shirt where she's still holding on.
“You care about everything that matters to me.
You care about my cousin's football games and our daughter's fusilli opinions and whether Zach's okay about Honey. It’s like you’ve always been part of our lives, and I guess in a way, you have. But I like this better.”
My throat is so tight I can barely swallow.
“Ella loves you, Jamie,” she continues, her voice dropping. “She talks to you like you’re her favorite person in the world.” Her eyes glisten. “Do you know how long I wished she had a father who looked at her like that?”
“Tiff—”
“I spent so long being scared to feel this.” A tear escapes down her cheek, and she wipes it quickly, almost annoyed at herself for it. “But I'm not scared anymore. I'm just in love with you. Completely. And I didn't want another night to go by without you knowing that.”
I can't speak. I physically cannot form words because everything I've ever wanted is standing in front of me in a dim hallway, telling me she loves me while our daughter sleeps on the other side of a cracked door.
“Say it again,” I whisper. My voice is barely there.
She smiles. It’s warm and so fucking beautiful. “I love you, Jamie.”
I cradle her face in my hands, wiping the tear track with my thumb, and I kiss her. Slow. Deep. The kind of kiss I want her to feel in her bones.
When I pull back, my forehead rests against hers, and I'm losing the battle to keep my own eyes dry.
“I love you, Tiff.” My voice breaks on her name. “You and Ella are everything to me. Everything.”