She ached to snatch her daughter and wrap her arms around her body. But she remained still, knowing Becca needed to process this information in her own way.
“So my real dad never came to see me because he didn’t know?”
Sydney spoke past the lump in her throat. “That’s right.”
“He knows about me now, and he wants me?” she whispered.
This time, tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t fight them off. “Yes, baby. He wants you so badly. He never wants to leave you again.”
Those beautiful green eyes filled with such hope Sydney’s heart shattered. She gazed at Tristan. “Is it you?” she whispered.
Tristan crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of Becca. Slowly he reached out a trembling hand and cupped Becca’s cheek. His voice was full of gravel and broken yearning as he spoke the words that changed everything.
“Yes, Becca, it’s me. I’m your father. And I want you more than anything in the whole world.”
The room was drenched in silence. No one moved, or breathed, as father and daughter gazed upon each other for the first time.
And then with a cry, Becca launched herself into his arms, clinging to him and crying, and Tristan held her like the most precious, treasured gift in the world.
Sydney watched them hold each other, the past and present merged in a moment of time that broke her completely and healed her in one perfect twist.
He sat with his daughter curled in his arms, the coconut scent of her shampoo drifting to his nostrils. They hadn’t wanted to leave each other’s presence, so he answered her endless questions as best he could, with Sydney running interference, perched on the edge of the sofa.
He studied her small, graceful hands, marveling at how little they were wrapped in his, her nails topped with pink glitter polish. He’d expected anger or resentment. He’d prepped for her reserve and distrust, struggling to understand why he’d suddenly shown up seven years later with an intention to become part of her life.
Instead, she’d humbled him with her open joy and affection, allowing him to steep himself in her presence and accepting him fully. He couldn’t have timed it more perfectly when Becca asked if they were going to get married now that they weren’t mad at each other anymore.
He’d immediately told her yes, cutting off any denials Sydney tried to scrape up.
Becca had squealed in excitement, sealing their fate. He spun a romantic tale to make things easier, painting an image of star-crossed lovers from a Disney movie, reuniting years later to get married and live happily ever after.
At least, Tristan could offer the marriage part.
Sydney took it all in with a forced smile on her face, but he saw the deep-seated panic beneath the surface. Things had gotten real. Becca had accepted him and was excited about them becoming a real family. Now it was time to move forward with the plan and make things legal.
Sydney seemed to sense his determination and cleared her throat. “Becca, I know this is going fast, and it could be really confusing. Tristan and I don’t have to get married right away. We could wait and take things slow. You’re never going to lose him again, sweetheart.”
Tristan waited for Becca’s answer. If his daughter communicated confusion, he’d back off. There was no way he’d do anything to upset her.
“No! I’m so excited! I want Dad to live with us right away,” Becca stated. “Can I be the flower girl? Can we get a dog?”
He burst into laughter. He would’ve bought her a damn puppy right away if he’d known how easy pet bribery was with kids. “Your mom and I will talk about it and let you know about the dog. And I’d say you’ll be the main star at the wedding, so yes, you can be the flower girl.”
“So cool. Mama, can I tell Lyndsey and Callie? It’s not a secret any longer, right? I can tell everyone that we found my real dad and you’re getting married and it’s like a true happily ever after?”
Sydney paled, but her lips curved in a smile. “Of course, honey. We want you to be as happy as we are.”
“And can we live in the mansion? Please?”
“No, I don’t think—”
“I think that’s a great idea,” he interrupted. “Uncle Cal and Uncle Dalton have already left, and we don’t want to sell the place. Would you like to live here, Becca?”
Sydney cleared her throat. “No, we—”
“Yes! Oh, yes, yes, I love it here so much! This is the best day of my whole life!”
Tristan grinned and hugged her. It made perfect sense to move into his family home. It was her legacy and big enough for them to get as many dogs as she wanted.
“I’ll be right back,” Sydney said, practically stumbling out of the room in her haste to leave. He frowned, but Becca didn’t catch on to her mother’s distress. She was too busy spinning daydreams of decorating her bedroom and filling the place with puppies.
With one last hard hug, he lifted her up off his lap. “Let’s get some breakfast. I think we promised you some bacon.”
It didn’t take him long to fry up some eggs and bacon. He poured her a cup of orange juice and refilled his coffee mug, noticing Sydney still hadn’t returned. When Becca’s plate was clean, he gave her a smile. “Wanna watch some TV while your mom gets cleaned up?”
“Yes. Are you coming home with us today? Or tomorrow?”
He caught the worried glint in her eyes and leaned over the counter so their gazes met. “Becca, I’m not going away ever again,” he said quietly. “I intend to marry your mom, and we’re going to be a family. We have a lot of time to make up for, so you’re gonna end up getting really sick of me.”
She smiled back and her small shoulders relaxed. “Okay. Can I watch SpongeBob?”
He made a note to study all relevant children’s shows for the future, then nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll set it up and we’ll decide what we’re going to do today.”
When she was happily settled watching a strange yellow sponge go on adventures, he headed to the bathroom and tapped on the door.
“Be right out.” Her voice was happy, yet strained.
“Syd, open the door. It’s me.”
He waited a few moments before the door swung open. Her face was a bit swollen and her eyes were red. He caught the evidence and tried to push the need to hold her aside. If he broke now, he’d be setting up the rules of their relationship. He swore he’d treat her well, but he was done offering up his bruised heart for her to slice and dice. He’d never trust her with that part of his anatomy again, and he needed to build some decent brick walls before he put a damn ring on her finger. He refused to be a chump in the name of love again unless it was for Becca. He’d give all his affection to his daughter, who was safe.
“I fed Becca breakfast and she’s watching TV. Want to talk?”