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“Let’s go sit.” Hartley ushers us to an empty table away from the noise of the speaker I turned on. Violet and Ryan toast champagne glasses with his mom. She isn’t walking as much or far as she used to, but she’s here, and that means the most to the both of them.

He places me on his lap, both of us facing toward the water as he rubs circles on my wrist. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

“Nothing,” I blurt out too quickly.

“Goldie, tell me.”

“I’m scared,” I admit.

“There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you, forever.”

“I’m. . . Earlier this week, I. . .” He cuts me off before I have a chance to speak.

He grabs my chin to twist my glittery face to his. My hands play with the ends of his hair. “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m—How did you know?!”

“Found the test in the bathroom. You’d make a horrible detective, babe.” He chuckles as his large palms cups over my stomach. “I was waiting for you to come to me.”

“You’ve known for days and let me freak out about how to tell you?!”

He grins and faces the ground. “You could say that.”

“Why?”

“You needed to come to terms with it on your own. Sort it out in that beautiful head of yours. I was prepared to wait it out for as long as you needed.”

“Aren’t you scared? Mad? Nauseous?”

“No. No. And No.” He slowly rubs back and forth on my belly, making butterflies come to life and flutter around inside. “I want it all with you in whatever order you’ll give it to me.”

“Are you sure you want this? With me?”

“More sure than I’ve been about anything. You’re it for me. My present and future. My one way home. I love you, Goldie.”

“Love you, too, Hotshot.”