After a few seconds of silence, I peek out of the door to make sure she is actually gone. It seems so. Relief washes over me.

I grab my car keys off my desk and start for the door, checking for any sign of her. Thankfully, I don't see anything.

"Mr. Rutherford? You're leaving already?" Mrs. Thatcher calls after me.

I stop before I step through the door and turn to face her.

"I thought you left for the day."

"I did, but I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything before I leave."

"No, I am heading home myself. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Thatcher."

"Thank you, Mr. Rutherford. You,too."

With that, I exit the building and head home. When I finally arrive, I put my keys down and take a seat at the table. I am nervous. This could be a disaster. Or maybe it will work out. I don't know.

Riley comes home shortly after I do, and I ask her about the nursery. The pictures she sent show a very cute design. She has done an amazing job.

"Harrison, I didn't expect you home so soon. Penny and I picked up a mobile to hang over Anthony's crib."

It only takes me a second to picture a baby looking up at it. I smile.

"I love it," I tell her. "I can't wait to meet him."

"Me neither. I want to see his eyes when he sees you."

"Come here, beautiful," I call Riley as I walk towards her. She stops what she is doing and stands, walking slowly towards me. I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly against me.

"He is going to be perfect," I murmur into her hair.

"I know he is."

We stand there for several minutes, just enjoying each other's company. Finally, I have to pull away.

"I am hungry," I tell her.

"Dinner will be ready in five minutes!" Gloria yells from the kitchen.

She must have been listening to our conversation. I chuckle when I hear her reaction. I’ve noticed how happy she has been to have Riley here. She always kept pestering me about finding someone and settling down, like a real mother should.

Riley follows me upstairs to wash up before dinner. We both go into the bathroom together and clean up before I change out of suit. Then we go downstairs and sit down at the table.

Gloria serves us chicken parmesan and pasta salad.

"This smells delicious," I praise.

"It's pretty good," Riley tells me.

"Okay, I have had enough compliments for tonight."

"You're still full from last night, aren't you?" I tease.

"Shut up," she laughs.

The rest of the meal goes by quickly and, before I know it, we're sitting in front of the TV.

"What do you two want to watch?" I ask, flipping channels.