A Walk Down the Aisle

Maybe both.

She wanted to go hug her daughter. But she knew she’d been right when she’d told Tori that Gloria and Dom were her parents. She watched them both pull Tori onto the couch between them and wrap their arms around her.

And that moment solidified the knowledge that she’d done the right thing. All those years ago, as she had read letters from people asking for a baby, she’d seen Gloria and Dom, and a feeling of rightness had settled over her. She’d known these were her daughter’s parents. And they were.

“Here’s what I suggest,” Dom finally said. “The three of us are going to go—”

“I meant it, Dad,” Tori interrupted, her anger back in place.

Dom shot her a look that shut her up and he continued, “We’ll go find a hotel for the night. The three of us can discuss things, then tomorrow morning, the four of us will meet for breakfast someplace neutral and decide how we’re going to handle this.”

“By this, he means me,” Tori informed Sophie.

Sophie found herself agreeing to Dom’s plan with gratitude. She called JoAnn, who had two rooms available at her B and B. “It’s only a few blocks away,” she assured the worried-looking Tori. “And why don’t we meet at the diner for breakfast? You name the time.”

They agreed on ten.

As the family walked to the door, Tori turned and said, “I’m sorry about the wedding.”

Remembering an old saying, Sophie told her daughter, “It will all come out in the wash.”

“Wedding?” Gloria asked.

“Today was her wedding, Mom,” Tori admitted, shamefaced. “I objected.”

Tori’s parents started talking, but Sophie interrupted. “Tori, of all the things you need to worry about right now, that’s not it. If anything, you should sympathize with Colton. He didn’t know about you, kind of like you didn’t know about me. Sometimes people keep secrets out of malice, but sometimes, they keep them because that secret’s simply too hard to talk about. Losing you...well, if I had to talk about it every day, I don’t know that I’d have made it. And I’m sure your mom didn’t think of you as anything but her daughter. Trying to explain there was another facet to that...” She turned to Gloria. “I get it.”

“But—” Tori objected.

Sophie stopped her. “Listen, we’ll meet tomorrow and try to figure out what’s best for you. That’s always been my number-one concern, and even though I’ve just met them, I know it’s your parents’, too. So, you three go talk tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow at ten at the diner for breakfast.”

Tori nodded, and Gloria wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and led her toward the car.

Dom hung back for a second. “You didn’t want to give her up, did you?”

“I loved her then, and now. Everything I did I did for her. I chose you and your wife because you seemed to be such a balanced couple. Your letter about longing for a child... I gave Tori the best life I could. And despite everything, I’d do it again.”

He studied her, then nodded and followed his family.

The three of them were a unit. A family.

And Sophie knew that even though she’d given birth to Tori, she’d never be more than that—the woman who gave birth to her.

Tori might not realize that fact yet, but she would.

Sophie would see to it.

CHAPTER THREE

COLTON SPENT a sleepless night.

He’d picked up his phone a dozen times, ready to call Sophie. Wanting to tell her they could work it out. Needing to tell her how much he loved her.

And yet, he couldn’t manage it.

Every time his phone rang, he checked the caller ID. Not one of the calls was from Sophie, but there was a distinct possibility that half of Valley Ridge had left him messages. Finn and Sebastian had tried to contact him multiple times, but he hadn’t picked up. He couldn’t talk to anyone until he spoke to Sophie.

And he had no idea what to say to Sophie. So he didn’t call her or pick up for anyone else. Instead, he paced. He cursed. He watched the clock tick forward, and thought about what they should have been doing at each hour.

Now, we’d cut the cake.

Now, we’d have our first dance.

Now the reception would be over, and he’d bring his wife home.

Now...

None of that had happened.

At eight in the morning, he knew a phone call wouldn’t work. So, he drove to Sophie’s house. The house they’d planned to put on the market because she was going to move into his house after they got back from the Poconos.

As a matter of fact, now they should be in the car and headed to their friends’ mountain retreat.

He knocked at Sophie’s door. He hadn’t knocked on her door for months. Not since the day she’d given him a key. As he waited for her to answer, he noticed a dark scuff mark on the door itself and wondered what had happened.

He wondered if she’d been so upset that she kicked the door when she got home, but he knew her wedding shoes couldn’t have left a mark like that.

The door swung open and there she was. He drank in the sight of her. It felt as if he hadn’t seen her in years rather than just hours.

“I thought you’d come,” she said by way of a greeting as she opened the door and let him in.

“Kitchen?” he asked, trying not to notice the boxes that were pushed against the hall walls. She’d told him that she’d started packing her mementos and books. The only furniture she was bringing was her grandmother’s writing desk and rocker. He’d told her to feel free and move in whatever she wanted. She’d hemmed and hawed about the plaid couch she loved. He’d assured her that she could redecorate the whole house if she wanted. She could buy them a pink polka-dotted couch and he’d sit on it, as long as she’d sit next to him. She’d kissed him after that declaration—only a small peck on the cheek—and told him there wasn’t anything she wanted to change about the house. It was perfect.

She’d laughed then and told him that maybe, if they were lucky, in a few months, they’d change one of the guest rooms into a nursery.

The thought of Sophie pregnant with his child had thrilled him.

But that memory only served to remind him that while that child would have been his first, it wouldn’t have been Sophie’s first. She’d had a baby and given her away.

And she’d never told him anything about that baby.

And she’d certainly never mentioned who the baby’s father was.

He felt an uncharacteristic spurt of jealousy at the thought of some unknown man with Sophie.

“The kitchen is as good a place as any,” she replied, pulling him back to the present.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been wearing her wedding dress. Her hair had been all fancy and styled. Now, she didn’t have on a speck of makeup, and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. She wore a pair of cutoff sweats and his old Gannon University T-shirt.