“From the beginning,” I requested.

I clocked her swallowing as she swiped to her photo app. “Newborn photos first?”

“No.” I gently squeezed her leg. “Pregnancy photos. I want to see everything, and I want to know everything.”

She glanced at me, her eyes shimmering with emotion. She could so easily show what had always been easy for me to hide. Well, until her. Until Colin. Until they flipped my world around and made it right again.

“I want to know if you had morning sickness and if he kept you awake at night.” I grinned. “He was a kicker, wasn’t he?”

Her lips parted, and a single tear stretched the length of her cheek. I shifted on the couch, so our legs touched, catching that tear with the pad of my thumb.

She quietly stared at me, allowing another tear to fall before gifting me with her voice and her answers. “Horrible morning sickness and reflux. I blame that on his full head of hair.” She sighed, her lip quivering.

I was tempted to track the line of her mouth to help steal away the tremble. Attempt to take away any pain she was feeling along with it, too.

“Colin loved to elbow me in the ribs.” She added with a soft chuckle, “My brother liked to point out I was growing a pair inside me. He has a weird sense of humor.”

She went on to share more, barely taking a breath as she began scrolling through photos of her while pregnant. I had a feeling it helped her to focus on the screen instead of on me.

“You were beautiful then and even more beautiful now.”

“I am?” she asked in a soft voice.

I said that out loud? “Of course you are.”

“And yet, you forgot what I looked like,” she said like a tease, then rested her free hand on mine. “Kidding. Don’t worry, it was forever ago. Time messed with the image I had of you in my head, too. And I even had our son to remind me of you daily.” She tucked the corner of her lip between her teeth.

“It used to destroy me to think about you,” I said instead of addressing her comment. “Remembering your smile. And that laugh of yours, God help me, that laugh.”

“Destroy you?” she asked in surprise.

“Knowing I’d likely never see you or it again.” I closed my eyes as I worked to control myself before I begged her to show me her smile now. “And how you looked at me when I was inside you. Like we were⁠—”

“One?” she breathed out, finishing my thought, and I opened my eyes, nodding.

I had to be confusing the hell out of her. Makes two of us.

“But you drink Legacy Ridge. Why? Wouldn’t it remind you of⁠—”

“It did,” was all I gave her.