Page 134 of Who's Your Daddy?

31. Peter

Three years later...

I take a sip of beer and ease back into my chair behind the steering wheel of my boat. “This is the life,” I say, looking over at Scott.

He concurs with a nod. “No worries. Just us and the water.”

We’re actually halfway decent at fishing now. Dylan currently holds the record for the biggest catch, but I’ve come in as a close second. I bought a small boat, and it’s become a routine to take the boys out at least once every two months. Neymar and Ambrose are currently passed out on the lower deck, so we’re enjoying one last beer before we dock and head home.

Peace and quiet are a luxury for all of us now. Scott and Cat welcomed their baby girl into the world not even two months ago, so he’s still adjusting to sleepless nights. Dylan and I are following close behind them. He and Isabella are in the process of adopting their second child, and the new addition to their family will be joining them very soon.

And then there’s me and Lia. Even though I’ve been ready for a second child for a while now, she’s been focused on building her career. She’s doing phenomenally. She doesn’t just get hired for weddings and birthdays anymore. A number of corporate clients use her services for advertisements and trade fairs. She’s even been contracted to shoot the covers of a popular women’s magazine. I’m so proud of her and what she’s achieved, and she did it all on her own.

But in six months, she’s going to have to put a pause on all that because a few weeks ago, we were surprised once again to see two pink lines on a pregnancy test. She was shocked. I was thrilled. Ambrose is crazy excited that he might be getting a new brother. I’m convinced it’s another boy, and I can call these things. My predictions have been a hundred percent accurate so far.

Well, in certain respects. I never would’ve predicted that this is how my life would be right now.

I take another sip of beer, then turn to Scott again. “If you have to put yourself back in senior year, how different is your life now than what you expected it to be?”

His eyes widen. “Are you kidding? It’s not even the same life. I was supposed to be the CEO of my dad’s company and married to Beth. If I went back in time and told my eighteen-year-old self that I’m now amath teachermarried to the one girl I hated more than anyone, my younger self would’ve laughed in my face.”

“Same,” I agree, nodding my head. “If I told my younger self that I’m now a proud father, committed toonewoman...he would slap me upside the head.” I turn to Dylan. “How about you, Dyl?”

“I was infatuated with Isabella from the second I laid eyes on her, so my younger self would probably want to grow up faster just to get to this future.”

Scott and I exchange looks because Dylan’s sentimental nature never ceases to amuse us.

I chuckle. “How the hell are we friends with this guy?”

“Fuck, if I know, Pete.”

“Dyl, you know we’re still trying to figure out a good use for you?

I give him a lot of shit, but I know I wouldn’t trade these two for anything. They’ve been my best friends for over a decade, and we have been there for each other through everything. Through breakups and makeups. Through therapy sessions and eccentric proposals. They were there, driving me around in the middle of the night to look for Lia. They were there when I found Ambrose on my doorstep. They’ve helped me through the worst of times...except diaper changing. That was a step too far for them.

But they were there, right next to me, when I declared my vows to my beautiful wife, and that’s what counts. And it’s not just the big things. It’s the small everyday moments that matter most. Basketball every second Saturday. Workout sessions during the week. Even just being out here, talking shit as we fish, is nourishment for my soul.

I couldn’t ask for better friends. They have played such a fundamental role in my life and helped shape me into the person I am today. These highs and lows are the threads that have woven together to create a tightly knit friendship. I would do anything for them, and they’ve proved time and time again that they would do anything for me.

We have another round of beers, and Scott even catches a bass before we pack it in for the afternoon. Ambrose wakes up as we dock the boat at the edge of the lake and talks non-stop all the way home.

“Hey, Li, we’re back,” I call as we enter the house.

She steps out of the kitchen into the foyer, tossing a dishtowel over her shoulder before she lifts Ambrose into her arms. That little pooch on her stomach is more prominent than it was yesterday. She’s showing much quicker than she did with Ambrose, and despite being tired, she still looks radiant.

She kisses him, then me. “And how was your day out fishing with dad? Did you catch anything?”

“I caught a grasshopper.”

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