Page 150 of Back to Willow

I may not have seen the DNA test with my own eyes, but I knew it from the moment she got out of that kitchen that day. It was her widest and brightest smile—an unforgettable memory. Another hint was the fact that my father’s attempts at custody requests, grandparent rights and so many other crazy court notices we’ve been receiving, haven’t affected her.At all.

And fuck, it turns me on as much as it makes me proud. My girlfriend—soon to be fiancé,I hope—has grown so much and fought so hard. While I know she has been doing it long before I came back, watching it up close has been inspiring.

I want to marry the hell out of her. This ring has been burning all my pockets for over a month now, but nothing ever feels like the right—or perfect—moment. We’re both officially done with school. Willow is going to start next fall as an elementary teacher in Dylan’s old school, and I’m already finishing up my last residency as a paediatric cardiologist.It’s time.

“You think it’s time?” Her round coffee irises look up at me through the dark blue hues of the aquarium. We’ve made it a tradition to come once a year since it was one of our first significant times together—as a family.

Still, my eyes widen in reaction to her words.

Did I say that out loud?

“W-what?” I stutter.

“I was thinking…” she trails off, looking at our boy with his head plastered against that damn thick glass. “He’s been calling you Dad since that Christmas. With your dad asking for custody, claiming Mason is the father, to me, it would make sense if—”

“I told you I don’t care about seeing the result,” I cut her off. “He’s mine, no matter what those papers say, and my father can fuck off with his entitlement.”

“No,” she groans, pulling me back by my hand.

That’s another one of her conquests; there have been several. From her nightmares vanishing to maybe just once or twice a year to barely having that extreme sensitivity to touch or sudden noises. Willow has been doing so much better.

Partly because of the wonderful people that surround her. From the shy, closed-off girl she was, she’s become a social butterfly, strengthening the bond she created with her college friends.

Ethan and Hazel are still a constant presence in our lives. They come around almost every other weekend and most of the holidays, too. So much so that Dylan calls them aunt and uncle. Ethan is the calmness of the three, and Hazel is slightly more guarded but still has that spunk in her personality. But the both of them have always been very protective of Willow. Even after all of these years, Hazel’s greeting signature to me is the cut-throat move, just to make sure I’m on my best behaviour.

And while it can be silly to some, it makes me proud to know she has found people that love her and want to protect her just as much.

Even that professor of hers…with time I’ve come to put my jealousy aside and understand them—their bond. Arthur and Willow share the same kind of pain, and while I wish I could be her only one for everything, I have to accept the fact that this kind of pain, I won’t be able to understand—not to the extent he does.

He is a fucking good friend, always calling to check up on her and everyone else. Not even the three hundred kilometres between them has kept him away, not really. Though, my less rational side surely doesn’t mind the distance.

But my favourite? The way she is more secure in herself—no longer stuttering, no more skittish moments, and she has slowly learned her own way of standing up to others. Even myself—and I fucking love it.

“That’s not what I meant.” She chuckles with a roll of her eyes.

There’s that recognisable hint of annoyance in her voice. It usually comes alongside some of her secret sassiness—which I also love—and I can’t help but feel the urge to entice it even more by irking her up. My hands lower to her backside, kneading her soft curves before I harshly grope her ass and bury my nose in her neck. “What did you mean, then?”

“Stop being crass, Liam.” She tries to pull me away, unsuccessfully.

At that moment, Dylan turns back, looking for us, twisting his face as soon as he sees us. “Ewww,” he mouths to me, and I laugh through a shrug before wrapping my arms around her upper back and hugging her tight.

“What did you mean, love?”

My words seem to finally do the trick as she smiles wide and wraps her arms around my neck. Her back is facing Dylan, but she knows I’ve got my eye on him. I always do, and she trusts me completely. In itself, it means the world to me.

“I was thinking we should finally change his birth certificate.” Her lips move, slowly enunciating every word with care, and her peach-coloured cheeks tighten from her shy smile.

With my eyes set on hers, I don’t move.

“What?”

“His birth certificate,” she repeats. “Not only would it make it official, but I also think it would send your father a message. Maybe…he’ll back off.”

I scoff, “He won’t.”

“Still,” my beautiful girlfriend insists. “I want him to have your name, too, and I’m sure he wants it. We can also ask him if it makes you more comfortable.”

I’m still at loss for words, looking at her.

---