“Anything for my favorite brother.” She kisses my cheek and then playfully slaps it. “Well, Alex really was, but you were a close second. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice you evading my questions about how it went with Jessica.”

“I’m sure Winnie will tell you everything.”

Stella’s face brightens. “She most definitely will, but I was hoping you’d share.”

“There’s not much to say. It was awkward at the diner, so I went there to let her know there were no hard feelings.”

Stella laughs. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re serious?”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, but Jessica was that girl for you. The one who haunts your dreams, and even when you were with Yvonne, we all knew it was Jessica who had your heart.”

Arguing with her about this will get me nowhere. “And on that note, you have to go.”

“You have lost a rung on my favorite brother ladder.”

I clutch my chest. “I’m crushed. As much as I’d like to continue our conversation, I have Daddy duty to ensure my kid doesn’t survive on your version of food groups.”

“All right. Love you, Gray.”

“Love you too.”

Once she’s off, I head inside to find Amelia sitting on the floor with her dolls and an open container of cookies.

“Hey,” I say and she looks up, “who gave you those?”

She ducks her head. “I found them.”

“Are you allowed to have cookies before dinner?”

“No, but I was hungry, Daddy.”

Her big blue eyes widen, proving that Stella was right—I’m totally screwed. I scoop her up, and we begin our normal routine. I get Amelia something healthy to eat, then it’s bath time, and now it’s time for bed. She’s all tucked in her bed, the spinning cloud light that Stella bought her is on, and it’s story time. We read the same book she loves every night, and I can recite it without even looking.

“Can you read with the silly voices, Daddy?”

“Do you promise to stay in bed if I do?”

“I promise!”

She lies, but I have a hard time denying her anything. “Okay.”

I drop my voice deep as I get into the role of the elephant. “Do you have big dreams, little mouse?” I ask.

“I do, I do,” I say, going much higher than is actually comfortable.

“And tell me what do you dream of?”

Amelia’s eyes light up as she answers in her best mouse voice. “To be a singer.”

I grin. “And what do you want to sing?”

“Opera, like my mom does in Paris.”