Wordlessly,Greyson flipped the cover open, to present me with the first page of photographs,and my interest piqued. I leaned closer to look at the baby pictures ofGreyson, a younger Tabby, and a vaguely familiar face. His mother.
“God,you were cute.” My mouth had a mind of its own as the corners of my lips liftedinto a warm smile. “Turn the page.”
Greycomplied, and my eyes focused on one large picture of Sam, holding a swaddledbundle of blue. She was lying in a hospital bed, gorgeous green eyes pointeddirectly at the camera and a bright, deliriously happy smile affixed to heryoung, pretty face.
“Thatwas right after you were born, I guess,” I muttered, nodding slowly.
“Doyou hate her?” Greyson asked, finally speaking in a low, gruff tone.
Itore my eyes from the picture and turned to the tormented look on his face, andI shook my head. “No. I don’t hate your mom. There’s some shit I wish I knew,sure, but …” I pursed my lips, looking back to the picture and wishing I couldremember more about her. “Nah, I don’t hate her.”
“Whynot?”
Pullingin a deep breath, I leaned into the back of the couch and wrapped my arm aroundhis shoulders. “Because all of this, Grey?” I lifted my hand and gestured outtoward the living room. “All of this never would’ve happened if it weren’t forher.”
Henodded and looked down to the picture. “She would’ve liked you.”
“Youthink she would’ve approved of me marrying your aunt tomorrow?” I chuckled,squeezing his shoulder.
Greysonsnorted at that. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. She would’ve been like, ‘Finally,someone’s gonna make her chill out.’”
Ilaughed. “That’s good to know.”
“Yeah,”he replied, nodding. “She couldn’t stand the guy Aunt Tabs was with before. Hewas so …” He uttered a sound of disgust.
“Well,I, for one, am glad she dodged that freakin’ bullet,” I mumbled, and squeezedhis shoulder once again before standing. “Come on, kid. Big day tomorrow, andyou know if you’re not awake bright and early, your aunt is gonna rip you a newone.”
Hisnod was accompanied by a forlorn sigh as his eyes met those of his mom onceagain. “I wish she was gonna be there.”
“Metoo, kid.”
***
Tabbywrapped her arm around my waist as I laid back down. She lifted her head andpressed her ear to my chest.
“Tooexcited to sleep?” she teased, and I felt her smile in the dark.
“That,and I had a bad dream,” I gently mentioned.
Shehummed as her fingers came up to thread between the hairs on my chest. “Aboutme leaving you at the altar?”
Isnorted a chuckle. “Baby, even dream me knows there’s no way that’d everhappen.”
Herlips pressed to my skin. “Well, what was it about, then?”
Myfingers slid into the lengths of her auburn hair. Stroking, combing, as Irevisited the nightmare that haunted me every now and then. I told her aboutthe phone call, the memory of her sister telling me she was going to have anabortion. Tabby stroked her fingers over my chest, nodding solemnly, until Iwas done, and she lifted her head to kiss my jaw.
“Atleast it’s just a dream,” she offered gently.
“Ithought it was the truth for a long time,” I reminded her, as our eyes met inthe darkness.
Tabbynodded, lifting her hand to lay against my cheek. “I know.”
“Doyou know why she didn’t get rid of him?” I asked without intending to say thewords aloud.
Shelifted herself higher, brushed her nose against mine, and kissed my lips in a waythat steadied my hammering heart. My arm tightened around her, pulling hercloser and finding a calm amidst the anxiety.
“Italked her out of it,” she whispered, and my brow furrowed.