28. Bella

28

BELLA

G inny is delighted. She's sensed something is going on between the men and me, and being my kid, she wants to be involved. She looks up from the sketch she's making and gives me a ferocious little grin, baring all the teeth she has.

"Going where, Momma?" she asks, her eyes gleaming most suspiciously.

I want to laugh, but we need to have a long conversation. "With the men you saw earlier. Is that okay, sweetheart?"

She bobs her head up and down. "It is. Look, I drew them too."

I focus on the painting in her hand. It's her and a snowman with what looks like River holding her hand. Marcus and Wyatt are floating in the background like some kind of stick-figure guardian angels with spiky hair, beaming at the two of them. And there I am, standing in front of a house, waving my hands wildly as if I'm trying to conduct an orchestra. The whole scene is both heartwarming and hilariously chaotic, like a winter wonderland interpreted by a sugar-high toddler.

My heart just bursts. "Ginny."

A small hand reaches out to hold mine. I look down to see Ginny, her eyes wide with understanding. "He's my dad, isn't he?" she asks softly, her voice like green leaves in spring.

My heart constricts with guilt and sadness. "I'm sorry, darling," I confess, my voice thick with emotion. "I should have told you before."

She sets down the drawing she was working on, her tiny arms wrapping around my waist in a comforting embrace. "Don't cry, Momma. Up!"

Her word, the familiar code for me to pick her up, bring a bittersweet smile to my lips. I lift her into my arms, her face now level with mine. She gently kisses my cheek, her warmth radiating through me.

"You were Mama and Dada," she whispers, her eyes sparkling. "But it's nice to know him now."

My heart swells with a mixture of love and gratitude for this remarkable little girl, my light in the darkness. "He's lucky to have you," I whisper back, my voice choked with emotion.

I hold her close, savoring the warmth of her embrace, the weight of her trust and forgiveness a balm to my wounded soul. My daughter, my light, my whole heart.

"Can we pack now?" she finally squeaks, with the more understandable impatience of a kid.

"Of course." I laugh, kissing the top of her head before helping her get ready. Once we're done, we step out together. My mother is downstairs, standing by the door. "Bella, your father just told me the most unspeakable things," she says in a distressed voice. Then she looks at me, her eyes widening with surprise. "Are they true?"

My brows furrow as I glance at her and then at Ginny, silently asking her not to cause a scene in front of my kid. She understands, stiffens for a moment, and then sighs. "Are you content?"

Pressing my lips into a thin smile, I nod. "More than I can say in words, Mom."

Her face remains neutral, but I see the spark in her eyes. She empathizes, even if she can't fully understand. "Then go, and make sure Ginny is taken care of. I'll see what I can do here."

I pull her into a quick, tight hug. "Thanks, Mom."

She strokes my hair. "Take care of the both of you, sweetie. Don't give yourself any more pain."

Ginny hugs her grandma tightly, promising to visit soon, and then we head toward the Subaru Outback. River sees us coming and waves. His eyes search mine as I hand Wyatt our suitcases. "How did it go?"

I shake my head, feeling the tears threaten again. "Not well. He can't accept it."

River wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. "I'm sorry, Bella. I know that must have been hard."

Wyatt steps up, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "We're here for you, no matter what."

There's no time to dwell on it with Ginny being as energetic and happy as she is. I signal toward her, and River bundles her up in his arms, helping her into the car. She squeals in delight. Marcus takes the car booster seat from me, and we buckle Ginny in, making sure she's secure before sliding into the passenger seat. River and Wyatt climb into the back.

Marcus starts the engine, the Outback rumbling to life.

Ginny chatters happily. Marcus reaches over, taking my hand in his. "We're going to be okay, Bella."

I squeeze his hand. "I know." Now that one big part of my life feels comparatively smoother, a lot of things begin making more sense. I look out the window as we drive.

The road winds through the towering pines of Whispering Pines, their emerald needles whispering secrets in the breeze. The late afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the gravel road. Ginny gasps, pointing excitedly at a group of deer grazing by the roadside.

"Look, Mommy! Deer!" she exclaims, her eyes wide with delight.

River turns to see, a smile spreading across his face. "Aren't they beautiful, Ginny?"

She nods vigorously, her little hands pressed against the window. "So pretty! Can we take one home?"

We all laugh, the tension from earlier melting away in the face of her innocence. "They're wild, sweetie," I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "They belong here in the forest."

As we continue our drive, the landscape opens up to rolling hills blanketed in snow and expansive meadows glistening under the setting sun. The sky is a canvas of warm oranges and pinks, the sun painting everything golden. Ginny babbles on about the deer while Marcus slows down as we approach a bend. The peaks are dusted with snow, standing majestically against the pastel sky. I roll down the window, letting the crisp, pine-scented air fill the car.

"Almost there," Marcus murmurs, his voice the soothing equivalent of a white noise machine. He's sensed Ginny's descent into the realm of the Overtired Child, a place where the laws of physics and reason no longer apply. It won't be long before she goes from being a giggly cherub to a tiny dictator demanding a snack that doesn't exist, followed by a tearful meltdown over the injustice of it all.

Marcus knows the signs. The manic glint in her eye, the frantic energy that makes her bounce off walls like a caffeinated squirrel. If he doesn't intervene soon, we're all doomed to a night of shadow puppets and lullabies that last until dawn.

"What is it with kids and naps?" he mutters, as if the universe might offer up a cosmic explanation. I grin to myself, because I don't know either. Is it a biological imperative designed to test the limits of parental sanity? A secret society of toddlers plotting to overthrow bedtime?

We round the final corner, and our cabin comes into view, nestled among the trees. Smoke curls from the chimney.

"I left a chicken roasting in the oven," Wyatt explains.

"My favorite," I think out loud. "You knew I'd return, didn't you?"

I can't see him, but I know he's grinning. "I had a hunch."

Marcus parks the car, and we all pile out, stretching our legs. Ginny runs ahead, her laughter ringing through the clearing.

River wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "It's good to be with you," he says softly.

I lean into him, feeling the solidity of his presence. "I can say the same."

Marcus has gone in and is trying to get Ginny to nap. The others and I stand at the entryway, chuckling as we watch him run after my little tyrant. Oh, if only Ginny had her plastic sword right now.

To his credit, Marcus knows the drill. He scoops Ginny up, her tiny body vibrating with the energy of a thousand espresso shots. "Time for sleepy-bye," he coos, channeling his inner sloth.

Ginny, of course, has other plans. She wriggles and squirms, protesting with a ferocity that belies her size. Marcus perseveres, employing a combination of gentle rocking and whispered promises of milk and cookies.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ginny's eyelids begin to droop. Her protests fade into soft snores, and her limbs go limp. Marcus breathes a sigh of relief, the battle won. I almost give him a round of applause. The only thing stopping me is knowing my kid will wake up immediately.

He whispers something about tucking her into the nursery and rolls his eyes dramatically as he goes up the stairs, my daughter snug in his arms. It doesn't feel weird. In fact, what's weird is how light I feel, how oddly at peace with the idea that I'll have help raising Ginny.

My eyes fall on the calendar. The time has literally flown, and tomorrow is Christmas. Everything is just fitting so beautifully, if only Dad…

Perhaps I can't have it all, and part of this arrangement is to make peace with what won't be possible.

Evening rolls in, and we begin getting the cabin ready for the day ahead. The festive spirit is infectious. The air hums with the scents of pine, cinnamon, and the warmth of impending Christmas. Ginny, my ever-curious shadow, is practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes wide and sparkling as she dives headfirst into the holiday preparations.

Wyatt has quickly become her favorite, much to the amusement of everyone. He's on the floor with her, pulling out little magic tricks from his pockets and making her giggle uncontrollably. His latest trick—producing a candy from behind her ear—has her squealing with delight.

"How did you do that?" she asks, eyes wide with wonder.

Wyatt taps his nose with a conspiratorial grin. "It's Christmas magic," he whispers.

I watch, heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and love. The men have seamlessly embraced the holiday spirit, their joy blending effortlessly with ours. River meticulously hangs ornaments on the tree while Marcus grumbles good-naturedly over a tangled mess of Christmas lights. The room is filled with laughter and the twinkling of lights.

"Ginny, do you want to put the star on the tree?" River calls out, holding up the glittering topper.

Ginny's eyes light up, and she rushes over. With Wyatt's help, she's lifted high enough to place the star on the highest branch. We all cheer, and she beams with pride, her cheeks flushed with happiness.

Once the decorations are done, the cabin glows with festive cheer. Twinkling lights cast a warm glow, and the garlands of fresh pine add a rustic charm. It's perfect.

It's time to tuck Ginny into bed. I read her a story, my voice soft and soothing, while her eyelids grow heavy. Finally, with a contented sigh, she drifts off to sleep, clutching her favorite stuffed animal.

I quietly exit her room, closing the door gently behind me. The house is silent except for the faint crackle of the fireplace. I make my way to the living room and find Wyatt lounging by the fire. The flames cast a warm, flickering glow, making the room feel even cozier. I sit down beside him and rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

He turns to look at me, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I knew I'd go for you the moment I saw you," he confesses, his voice a low murmur.

I lift my head, meeting his gaze. "How could you be so sure of something like that?" I ask softly, genuinely curious.

Wyatt looks deep into my eyes, his smile widening. "Sometimes, you just know," he replies simply.

The sincerity in his voice touches something deep inside me. I nestle closer, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. Soon, the others join us, each finding a comfortable spot around the room. River settles into an armchair with a satisfied sigh, and Marcus stretches out on the couch, his hands behind his head.

A few minutes later, Ginny comes bouncing into the living room, her hair tousled and her eyes still heavy with sleep. "I can't sleep," she announces, rubbing her eyes with her tiny fists.

Suppressing a chuckle, River opens his arms to her. "Come here, sweetie," says River. She climbs onto his lap, snuggling against him. "How about we watch a little TV?"

Ginny nods eagerly, and I reach for the remote, turning on an episode of Bluey . The familiar theme song fills the room, and Ginny's face lights up with joy. She settles in, her eyes glued to the screen.

Wyatt wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "It's good to be home," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.

I lean into him, feeling the solidity of his presence. "It really is," I reply, my voice filled with contentment.

As Bluey plays in the background, I glance around the room at the faces of the people I love.

River is engrossed in the show, a soft smile playing on his lips. Marcus has drifted off to sleep, his quiet snores sending Ginny into a fresh fit of giggles. A few minutes later, she's out like a light, curled against River's body. He looks down at her lovingly as Wyatt turns the TV off.

"Time to go to bed," River whispers gently into Ginny's ear before lifting her slowly. Watching him take her upstairs has my heart doing somersaults. We are about to call it a night when there's a knock on the door.

"Who could it be?" Wyatt asks with a frown as he goes to answer. I'm cleaning up when he comes back in. He's not alone.