and a blush coats her cheeks. “Thanks, Mr. Bradshaw.” Her grin fades when her eyes slide to Molly and Gray. “Is Mrs. Bradshaw going to be okay?”
The vein in my temple pulses at her question. I have no fucking clue how to answer.
I look over at Molly and watch her and Gray at the counter. Gray’s only a few inches shorter than her. How long will it be before he’s towering over her? Will she even still be alive for that to happen?
My gut tightens at the thought.
I turn back to Andrea, my expression solemn. “Molly is very sick. Unfortunately, there is nothing the doctors can do to help her.” I can see the question in her eyes, even though she’s too polite to ask. “Eventually, Molly will die from her illness.”
Her sorrowful eyes drop to look at her hands twisting on top of the table. After a moment, she lifts her head, and her eyes glisten. When she looks back at the counter where Gray and Molly are standing, her eyes are only for Gray. Andrea has been Gray’s friend for a few years now, and they’ve grown close. As much as she feels remorse for Molly, I know her main concern is for Gray and what the loss will do to him. Molly and I couldn’t have picked a better friend for our son.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, bringing her gaze back to me.
Reaching over, I pat her hand. “Thanks,” I say hoarsely.
Later that evening, I’m sitting on the side of the bed holding Crissy, one of Gemma’s favorite dolls, while she brushes her hair.
“How was your day with Aubree?” I ask, watching as Gemma meticulously parts her doll’s hair in small sections to make sure she gets out all of the tangles. The care and patience she shows proves she’ll one day make a great mother.
“We had tons of fun. Aunt Lindsay let us play with her makeup and dress in her pretty dresses.”
“That does sound like a lot of fun.”
“It was,” she chirps. “She had a lot of pretty dresses, but I like Momma’s more. Maybe Aubree can come over next time and we can dress up in her dresses. Maybe even Momma will dress up with us.”
I smile and tap the tip of her nose with my finger. “I’m sure Momma would love that.”
“And we can put on a dance show for you and Gray.” Her eyes light up. “You can be the band and play a song on your guitar for us to dance to!”
I chuckle. “That sounds like it’s going to be the best dance show ever.”
She nods, her red curls bouncing around her shoulders. “It will be! The best one anyone’s ever seen!”
“All right, beauty,” I announce once she’s finished brushing Crissy’s hair. “It’s time to hit the sack. I think I just saw Crissy yawn. She must be pretty tired after all the fun she had with you and Aubree today.”
She giggles and flips her doll around to look at her face, as if trying to catch her yawning. “You’re silly, Daddy.”
Darting my hands out, I tickle her ribs. “But you love silly Daddy.” Her girlish giggle fills the room.
After our tickle fest, she climbs onto my lap and wraps her tiny arms around my neck, putting her face close to mine.
“I do love it when you’re silly Daddy. I love you all the time.”
I hug her to me and kiss her cheek. “And I love you all of the time too, beauty.”
A few minutes later, Gemma is tucked into bed with Crissy lying on the pillow beside her head. Mr. Cuddles lays on her other side.
“Goodnight, baby. I’ll see you in the morning. Momma will come in a few minutes to say goodnight.”
“Okay. Night, Daddy.”
I flip off the light and pull her door shut until it’s opened only a couple of inches. With a smile, I walk toward Gray’s room. Every night Molly and I go from one room to the other, saying goodnight to the kids. It’s been our thing since the moment we brought each of them home from the hospital.
Hearing soft murmurs, I stop just outside Gray’s door.
“I’m so sorry about what happened earlier, Gray,” Molly says, her voice sounding so small it almost comes out childish.
“It’s okay, Momma.”
There’s some rustling, and Molly speaks again. “It’s not okay, baby. I know that had to have hurt. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you or Gemma.”
I lift my hand and rub at the ache forming