Felix leans into him. Years ago, Kade had thought that he needed to provide a sprawling house like this for Felix to be happy. It’s taken him a while to shake that impression. “I like our home,” Felix says quietly. “It’s feels like family.”
Kade looks back at him, a tiny smile curving his lips. “I believe you.”
They walk up the stone steps together. Shifting Bethy to his other arm, Felix unlocks the door, pushing it open.
Inside, the butler looks up at them, raising his eyebrows. Then his gaze flickers over Bethy and Kade. “Mr. Felix,” he says, dipping his chin. “Your father was not expecting you. You’ve caught him just as he was about to leave.”
The butler glances to the side. Felix finds his father standing at the foot of the grand stairway, briefcase in hand. Felix swallows. This was less time than he had to prepare.
Alastor Henry scans them over—Felix, Kade, the baby girl in Felix’s arms. His eyes widen.
“Father,” Felix says, his pulse jumping in his throat. “I apologize for not dropping by. We’ve been caught up lately.”
By lately, he means the past half year, but his father doesn’t answer. The mayor of Meadowfall steps forward, his forehead crinkled. “You birthed a child.”
“A daughter,” Felix says. “Bethy Brentwood.”
His father stops two feet away, staring at the blond curls on Bethy’s head, her mahogany eyes. For a long moment, he stares at her, lips pressed thin. Then he sags, ever so slightly, and in that moment, he looks old.
Felix thinks about handing the wedding invite over and leaving, but his father reaches up, and pauses. “She reminds me of your mother,” he says, his voice barely audible. And Felix’s heart quickens, because his father has never talked about his mother. She’d died when he and Taylor were infants.
“She’s a great child,” Felix says, his voice shaking a little. Anytime now, his father will tell him what a failure he still is. And it will hurt again. “We’ve been reading books to her. Her favorite is ‘Big Rabbit and Little Rabbit’.”
Alastor Henry drops his hand, his shoulders sagging. “Your mother would have raised you better,” he murmurs haltingly. “She was far kinder than I am.”
Felix stares at his father, his eyes stinging. His father has never acknowledged the way he treated Felix, either.
“You could have shown him some kindness,” Kade says, eyeing Felix’s father. “That’s all I ever hoped to see from you.”
That, and a proper acknowledgement. But Felix knows Kade won’t ask for it.
Alastor glances at Kade, nodding. Then he looks back at Felix, his eyes dark and contemplative. “I raised you in the hopes that you would take over my businesses someday,” Alastor says. “Taylor did well with that. I wondered why you didn’t. And I hope you won’t make the same mistakes I did with your children.”
Felix gulps, his throat tight. It sounds like forgiveness, and he hasn’t thought he needed to hear it that much. “I’ll try not to.”
Kade lifts the ivory envelope in his hand, glancing at Felix. Do you want me to hand it over?
Felix nods. So Kade presents their wedding invite to Alastor, meeting his gaze. “We’re getting married in June. Thought you might like to be invited.”
Alastor takes the envelope from Kade. “You can expect me to be there.”
Felix smiles. It’s a victory, that his father would even want to witness their marriage.
And a heartbeat later, Alastor adds, “I regret my decisions about the estate, sometimes. For the impact that they caused the people of Meadowfall. My wife—your mother, Felix—I think she would have thought the same you did.”
It’s the closest he’ll get to apologizing for the bankruptcy. Kade breathes out, dipping his chin. Fine.
Felix doesn’t know what to say to all this, himself, how to even respond to the man he’d grown up fearing. So he nods, holding Bethy closer to himself. She gurgles. “We’ll be leaving,” he says. “See you at the wedding.”
His father nods solemnly. “See you then.”
Their wedding takes place on a balmy morning in June.
At Meadowfall park, children run and shout and play in the shade of spreading trees. Swans glide across the distant lake, and ripples spread through the water’s surface. Under an intricate iron gazebo, Felix and Kade join hands before their families, facing each other, and their audience holds its breath.
To Felix’s left, Taylor cradles Bethy in his arms—she’s six months old, dressed in bright yellow overalls—and next to him, their father watches on, the butler James at his side. Felix swallows. His father’s presence isn’t enough to make him tense, though. There are other people around, family and friends who have been kinder to him. Kade squeezes his hands, and Felix shifts his gaze to their other guests.
To his right, Mrs. Brentwood smiles, her eyes shining. Kade’s brothers stand with her—Chris and Sam—and just past them, Susan grins, mouthing, Go on, kiss him.
Felix smiles. He looks back at Kade, and his breath catches again.
“You always look so handsome,” he murmurs, warmth settling in his chest. For the past months, Kade has been taking a day off work each week to help with Bethy. Together, they’ve taken turns staying up through the nights, changing her diaper, feeding her, playing with her when she doesn’t sleep.
Sometimes, Kade’s mom steps in to babysit, and they get a day to themselves—time they spend idling with each other, kissing on the back porch, tangled amongst the bedcovers.
Sometimes, they take Bethy out on strolls to the park, looking at the swans, the laughing children, the rustling leaves.
“She’ll grow up coding the computer games,” Felix will say.
“She’ll start doing crayons and oil pastels,” Kade will say.
They’ll end up looking at Bethy, and she’ll fling a dried leaf into the air, giggling.
Kade rubs his thumbs over Felix’s hands. Felix focuses on him again; Kade’s dressed smoothly in a blue-grey suit, its lapels curving gently
