Chapter 22

-0-0-0-

The best day of my life dawns sunny and bright. Fitting, since the tiny bundle against my chest—delicate hand fisted tightly against pink, bowed lips—brought the light in with her when she entered my world.

She's only one day old, my Ava Mae, and already I've memorized every perfect piece of her. From the top of her head—covered in a layer of thick brown hair—to the bottom of her tiny, wrinkled feet; she's the smallest, warmest, sweetest thing I've ever seen. She's a quiet baby, communicating only in squeaks and delicate hums, and she's happiest when she's bare chested and cuddled skin-to-skin against me. I think she already knows that she's mine and I'm hers and together, we're a team.

"Ava Mae," I whisper, rubbing the top of her downy head with the tips of my fingers. She roots around at the sound of my voice, a foreign feeling fluttering inside my breasts. I hadn't given much thought to nursing her when I was pregnant, but now that I've fed her from my own body—the same body that patiently grew each, special inch of her—I can't imagine it any other way.

Adjusting her weight, I place her against my breast and watch as she moves frantically, latching on with far more vigor than her fragile frame seems capable of. Her mouth moves quickly, pink lips pulling in and out in an organic rhythm all her own. Her features are soft and upturned, like mine, but her eyelashes and eyebrows…they're his.

My brother interrupts our bonding, his shoes squeaking loudly against the hospital's shiny linoleum floor as he rounds the corner into my room. Ava's new carseat in one hand, an empty black duffel in the other, he skids to an abrupt halt, dropping the bag on the floor in his haste.

"Okayyy…" he stutters, turning on his heel and walking back out. "I'll just wait out here," he yells from the hallway. "Until you've, uh... Until you've put it away."

Sighing heavily, I place a receiving blanket over my exposed chest, smoothing it back from Ava's face. "You're an idiot," I call back, dryly.

Emmett inches back inside the room a few moments later, his hand clamped firmly over his eyes to shield me from his view. "It's not right," he mutters, settling into the chair near my bed. "No guy should have to see his sister's ti—"

"Oh get over it," I admonish, laughing. "It's how she eats. Stop making it a big deal."

He looks everywhere but at me. "Mom and Dad are on their way up. You gonna do that in front of them?"

"She has to eat, Emmett." I roll my eyes in exasperation. "Am I supposed to withhold food from her because Dad's an uptight ass?"

My brother raises his hands in defense. "I'm just warning you."

Things have been tense in our family since I broke the news of my pregnancy months ago. Despite their previous lack of involvement in our lives, my parents' abrupt and intentional silence bothers me more than I thought it would—more than it probably should. I ran through my family and friends quickly when I chose to let this baby girl grow, and I've had several long, lonely months because of it. My brother's been my saving grace. Steadfastly loyal, he's been much more than just a brother to me. He's my best friend and my protector. He's kept me healthy and happy, allowing me to mourn my decisions, yet celebrate their outcomes. The best outcome of all, of course, being the tiny bundle in my arms.

"Hey, pretty girl," Emmett coos, leaning in to let his niece's small fist wrap around his much larger finger. I busy myself rewrapping her blankets. When she grunts and whimpers her protest, I bring her to my shoulder and pat her back lightly. "The nurse said you should rub circles, remember?" my brother reminds me, his voice filled with new-uncle worry.

Smiling softly at his concern, I switch my taps for gentle rotations. "I remember," I murmur.

He clears his throat quietly, and I brace myself for what's to come. There's one obvious person missing from this equation, and—despite my best efforts—I'm painfully aware of his absence.

"Do you want me to…uh…call him?" Emmett's hesitation and wariness makes my sensitive heart hurt. Only hours old, the mention of Ava's missing father is a dark cloud over an otherwise sunny day.

We haven't heard from Edward at all, save for a smattering of checks sent over the past few months. Short notes of well wishes soon fizzled to simple names: To Bella; From Edward. Eventually his correspondence became nothing more the occasional check in an otherwise empty envelope. I never wrote back, and the insecure girl who longs for the heavy weight of his body and the warmth of his hands, regrets the decision to freeze him out. This Bella, though— the one cradling her newborn daughter—realizes that if he'd wanted this, he could have had it. I've hardly left my bedroom in months. I've literally been waiting in the same place he left me.

"I don't think so," I answer quietly. "I don't want anything to ruin this day."

Emmett's dark eyebrows furrow in concern. "Don't you think he should know?"

"He's done the math, I'm sure."

I can tell my brother wants to push the issue, but our parents' arrival interrupts our quiet debate.

My mom makes a beeline for the bed and takes over rubbing Ava's back. "How's my Ava girl?"

She's shown little concern for me throughout the process of Ava's birth, but the shame and disappointment she clearly harbors haven't diminished the joy she feels at being a new grandmother.

I ignore the fact that she hasn't asked me anything directly. "The pediatrician came by and said she's perfect. They're letting us go home this afternoon."

She hums in acknowledgment, still ignoring me in favor of baby-talking Ava. "Are you going for a ride, Ava girl? Are you going for a ri—"

"Ridiculous contraption," my dad interrupts gruffly, nudging the carrier with his toe. "I got the other piece all buckled in; damn thing takes up half the backseat."

He's not one to rub backs or nuzzle downy heads, but he shows his love in other ways. Like spending the morning outside with a hospital staff member, receiving a lesson in the proper way to install Ava's carseat base. Uptight ass or not, I'm thankful for his help.

"Alright, old man," my brother says, slapping my dad's back. "Let's get everything loaded up."

They work to gather up the few items I brought from home while my mom holds Ava and continues her cooing. My nurse Fiona, a large Irish woman, saunters in just as I'm preparing to change Ava's clothes and diaper for the ride home. Her voice is loud and clear, but given the silence of the past few months, I welcome her company. "How're you feeling, dear?" she asks.

"Okay," I say, smiling kindly. "A little sore, but pretty good overall."

She clacks her tongue. "You young ones…always bounce back so quickly."

Fiona busies herself checking my chart and vitals, unaware that her words have caused an awkward silence to settle over the room like a thick blanket. My parents look away, the humiliation on their faces so standard these days that I struggle to remember a time when I still made them proud. My brother meets my eye and winks, the simple action filled with encouragement and understanding. I shake my head, letting him know I'm okay; I'm strong, and I've got this.

I might be broken, but there's a newborn girl who's looking to me for love and happiness, and that's the most powerful healing balm of all. It's not how I would have written our story, but maybe the lesson is in how I live the tale.

.

.

"So, how'd it go?" I mouth, nodding in Ava's direction. "Any problems?"

Edward shakes his head, a smug grin pulling at the corners of his lips. "Nope. She was perfect."

We both lower our heads to spy on our daughter through the pass-through window in Edward's kitchen. Ava's perched on her knees at his dining room table, looking both tiny and grown surrounded by stacks of computer paper and uncapped pens.

"Did she eat?" I ask, taking in the status of his tidy kitchen. There are a few pans in the sink, but it looks otherwise unused.

"She did. She wanted ice cream; we agreed on mac and cheese and fruit."

My eyebrows slide upward. "I'm impressed."

"It was from a box."

"Still better than ice cream," I point out, smiling.

I don't know that I'll ever stop feeling surprised by the easy way Ava and Edward have adapted to one another. It frightens me a little, how quickly she loved him. I continue to hope he's worthy.

Edward's arms fold across his chest and he leans his hip against the counter, staring at me.

"What?" I smooth my sundress self-consciously. My shoulders are bare and sun-kissed pink from my afternoon at the farmers' market with Sam. My bare feet show the early signs of a strappy sandal tan.

He shrugs casually. "You look nice."

Things are still slightly awkward from the last time our conversation went down this path, several weeks ago. I hate the tension surrounding these types of talks. I miss the glimpses of the fun, lighthearted Edward I'd only just gotten to know.

I thank him, touching the tops of my shoulders tenderly. "I'm wishing I'd worn something with sleeves."

"Where'd you get so much sun?" He turns his focus to a nearby set of napkins, straightening them with false concentration.

"Famers' market."

"With Sam?" He mimics his name.

"What're you, twelve?" I laugh.

"The farmers' market." His forehead creases in distaste. "It's just so…cheesy."

"Hey!" I move to smack his chest with my hand, but he curls around himself protectively and darts away from me, chuckling. "I like the farmers' market!"

"I like it too, but…come on. For a date? It's cheesy," he repeats, looking down at me.

"It wasn't a date." My cheeks flare hot beneath my sunburn. I'm embarrassed for Sam in this moment and annoyed with Edward for playing on my insecurities.

"So you're not dating him?"

"Well, no. I mean…I am. I guess. I just…" I scowl in frustration. "Your lawyer tricks won't work on me, Cullen."

He laughs. "No tricks here, Swan. Just stating the obvious."

I ignore him and lean forward to check on Ava again, smiling at the way her pink tongue peeks from the corner of her mouth as she concentrates on her drawing.

"So listen," I say, butterflies tickling my stomach. "My parents are having us over for dinner tomorrow evening…kind of a family barbecue type of thing. I wondered if you'd want to come?"

His eyes widen slightly, and he swallows thickly. "Do they still hate me?"

"Maybe. But Ava loves you, and she'd probably be proud to have you there."

I don't mean to guilt him, but it's the truth. He's all Ava can talk about. She's proud to have a dad, and she's proud her dad is Edward. I'm ready to move beyond all the drama surrounding our past, and the first step in doing that is shelving the awkwardness with my parents. I don't blame him for feeling nervous, but he's got to face the results of his past actions at some point. I certainly did.

Edward seems lost in his own head for a moment, but he agrees, nodding resolutely. "Count me in. Can I bring anything?"

"Boxed pasta?"

He laughs. "That's sure to impress them."

-0-0-0-

"I just don't understand why I had to hear it from your brother." My mom's voice is nearly a whine. It wouldn't surprise me for her to stomp a perfectly manicured foot.

"It's really not that big of a deal, Mom," I say, eliciting a glare from her. I retreat. "Okay. Fine. It is a big deal, but not in a bad way. It's actually been a really great thing for Ava…and I don't want to do anything to ruin it for her."

She rolls her eyes, dropping ice in glasses with unnecessary force. "As if I would do anything to upset Ava."

Maybe not intentionally…

I take the tray of drinks, following her through the dining room and out to the deck. This is the same spiel I've been reciting to my parents for weeks now, but there's only so much I can do. The rest is up to Edward. He'll have to prove himself to them. "He's really changed, Mom," I say, a final attempt at opening her mind to him.

"Mm-hmm…"

I set the drinks down on the patio table, moving them into the shade so the ice won't melt. "Should I be worried about Dad?" I ask hesitantly.

"I don't know, Bella. I mean, you're bringing home the boy who—" she drops her voice to a hiss, "knocked-up his sixteen-year-old daughter, under his roof, and then left her high and dry to raise a baby alone."

I shush her quietly, looking over my shoulder to make sure Ava's not nearby. "That's not exactly how it happened…"

She glares at me. "Well, you never bothered to elaborate. What were we supposed to assume?"

I chew my lip, taking some time to digest the truth in her words. Crossing the deck, I hug her tightly. "You're right, Mom; I'm sorry."

It's the first time I've ever really said it, and I hope she realizes how much it covers. It's for more than just the stress of today. It's an apology for being deceitful and for keeping things a secret much longer than I had to; for being stubborn and hardheaded and unable to accept help.

"Momma?" Ava interrupts our moment, her bare feet slapping against the deck as she climbs the stairs. "I'm ready to swim now."

My mom smiles tightly when I step out of her embrace. We've only just skimmed the surface. This painful topic runs several layers deep. It's nowhere near resolved.

I spend a few moments reapplying Ava's sunscreen and talking with her about the importance of taking occasional breaks for shade. "Is Uncle Em in the pool?" I ask, rubbing in the last streaks of lotion on her nose.

"Yes, and Auntie Rose, too."

"Stay in the shallow end, and I'll be right down. Okay?"

Watching her navigate the deck stairs, I peel off the thin tank covering my halter two-piece and pull my hair into a loose knot on the top of my head. I pull my cellphone from the pocket of my cutoffs, remembering to put it away before I go near the water. There's a text from Sam, wishing me luck today and telling me he hopes things go smoothly. I feel a twinge of guilt that I haven't introduced him to Ava or my parents, and that Edward's sharing this day with us instead. Sam's been so patient, so unwaveringly supportive and kind…maybe it's time I stepped up and really let him in.

I tuck my phone inside a towel and shove it under a deck chair.

-0-0-0-

Rose rubs sunscreen on my back while I sit between her legs, playing judge for Emmett and Ava's splash contest. My brother can clear the pool with one jump, but he pretends to fall a lot and lets Ava win some, too.

"It's open!" Emmett calls, when there's a knock on the gate near the side of the house.

I rush to greet Edward at the fence, hoping to intercept him before my parents have the chance.

He's in a white t-shirt and board shorts, squinting against the sunlight and looking every bit as good as he did in this exact spot several years ago. A grocery bag bulges with multiple cartons of ice cream under one arm, a six-pack of my brother's favorite beer balances under the other.

"Hi," he grins widely, nudging his hat off his forehead with the back of his too-full hand. His eyes dart nervously over my shoulder, assessing the situation behind me.

"Hi yourself," I reply, matching his grin. I'd like to ease his worries, but truth be told, I have no idea what he's about to walk into. "No Kraft mac and cheese?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Brought my girl some ice cream, instead." He gestures to the six-pack. "And food for Emmett."

After latching the gate behind him, I reach out to grab a bag. His eyes follow the path of my outstretched arm, over my chest, and down to my bare stomach. "Watch it," I warn, narrowing my eyes at him playfully.

He laughs, wiggling his eyebrows good-naturedly. I lead him across the paver stones lining the side of the house and out into the bright backyard. Ava spots him immediately. "Daddy!" she squeals, her tiny legs kicking furiously as she pushes herself to the ladder. "Daddy, watch me!" She rushes out of the pool, fast-walking to the edge and cannonballing back in.

"Whoa!" Edward grins, waiting for her to resurface. He gives her a thumbs up with his free hand. "Nice one!"

He waves politely to Rose, and she smiles tightly, returning her attention to the magazine in her hands. Her sunglasses hide her expression, but I'd bet her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

We wait in the soft grass as Emmett and Ava climb out of the water, their dripping bodies leaving sloppy puddles on the stone as they slip-slide our way. Ava wraps herself around Edward's leg, and my brother claps his back with one big, wet hand. Edward pushes him off playfully. "Hey, man," he laughs.

I take the six-pack from Edward, freeing his hands to lift Ava. Her wet swimsuit drenches the few remaining dry spots on his shirt, but he's unfazed. "Come swim with us," Ava begs him, her cheeks pink from sun and excitement.

"I'm going to run these inside," I say, touching Edward's arm lightly. He smiles warmly in acknowledgment. "Be right back."

-0-0-0-

My mom and dad are huddled around the kitchen sink when I walk into the room. "Edward's here," I announce, squinting against the sudden shift to artificial light. Their tense postures prove I'm not telling them anything they don't already know.

"We'll be right out," my mom murmurs. She pulls plastic wrap from various dips and sauces while my dad helps me ice down the beer. They exchange wary glances as they follow me through the open French doors and onto the deck.

My nerves are at an all-time high as I scan the yard for Edward, ready to get this awkward reintroduction out of the way. I spot him in the pool's shallow end, talking with Emmett while he pulls Ava around in lazy circles. Our eyes meet, but before I can wave him over, he blows a raspberry on Ava's neck and hands her over to Emmett, dodging pool toys and floats as he makes his way out of the water. Grabbing a towel from the chair next to Rose, he wraps it around his waist, then slides his t-shirt over his head and crosses the lawn in our direction, his stride equal parts confident and cautious.

I smile to ease his nerves when he reaches the top of the stairs. "Mom and Dad, you remember Edward." I cringe slightly. Of course they remember him.

"Hello, Edward." My mom is tight-lipped and polite. My dad is silent.

Edward steps forward with his hand extended. "Mr. and Mrs. Swan. It's good to see you again. Thank you for having me."

My dad accepts his handshake, his mustache twitching as he pumps Edward's hand a little too firmly.

To his credit, Edward cuts right to the chase. "I know we have a lot to discuss, and...I realize this isn't the best time or place, but...I want you to know that I'm ready to, uh…face the music, so to speak." He laughs nervously. "I know I have a lot to answer for, but... I'm just really happy to be here."

My dad laughs dryly. "Glad you've finally learned that there's a time and place for certain things."

Edward flinches, but before either of us can respond, my mom places a calming hand on my dad's arm, her touch relaxing his shoulders and breaking him out of the glare he has locked on Edward.

"We have plenty of time to discuss the past. Let's just try to enjoy today, okay? Would you like something to drink, Edward?" She crosses the deck, pointing out each drink as she says its name. "There's tea or beer or soda. You just help yourself. I'm going to get the meat ready for the grill." She scurries toward the house, snagging my dad's sleeve on her way. "Charlie, help me carry these plates out, will you?"

Edward and I stand rooted in place, staring after them in stunned silence. Finally, he clears his throat quietly, "Well, that…uh…that—"

"Went way better than I expected it to."

"Christ," he murmurs, rubbing his hands over his face.

He looks so relieved that I can't help but laugh. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I really thought he was going to kill me."

"Yeah." My laugh turns teasing. "I'm pretty sure he wanted to."

He narrows his eyes at me, a smile playing at his lips. "That's helpful."

I grin. "And just think, you haven't even 'faced the music' yet." I curl my fingers into quotes to mock his words, and he groans.

"God. I'm such an idiot."

Shaking my head, I pull my focus beyond the deck and watch our daughter splashing and playing in the pool below. Ava and Emmett and Rosalie…even my mom and dad, all of my favorite people, together in the same space. It feels so good…so complete, to finally add Edward to this list. "You're just making an effort. One day Ava will appreciate how hard you're trying."

Mirroring my stance, he follows the path of my eyes, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face when he spots our girl. "Man, I love her," he whispers, shaking his head slightly as if he can't quite believe it.

Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I swallow around the lump in my throat. I know what it's like to love her so much you wonder if you can stand beneath the weight of it all.

"Hey, Edward?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"You're doing a great job."

-0-0-0-

"Rough day?" Rose asks, joining me on the porch swing later that night.

"Not at all, actually." I sigh, running my fingernails across Ava's scalp. She purses her lips in her sleep, curling deeper into my arms.

"I hate to admit it, but he's not so bad."

I snort, unsurprised by my best friend's bluntness. "Edward's fun factor has never really been the issue."

"True." She gets the swing moving again with a push of her bare foot, each of us settling back to watch Emmett and Edward shoot hoops in my parent's driveway.

Emmett dribbles slowly, trying to get past Edward, but Edward steals the ball and shoots it. I laugh when my brother falls in a defeated heap on the pavement. "Two!" I whisper-shout, and he shoots me the bird.

"How're things with Sam?" Rose asks quietly.

"Good," I say, guilt gnawing at my belly. I haven't checked my phone since I stowed it away earlier. "You already know how great he is. He's so well-mannered, and he loves baseball…"

She laughs. "Wow. He sounds like a riot."

"You know what I mean," I scoff, twisting strands of Ava's hair together to busy my hands. "He's…gentlemanly. I know that sounds lame—Edward won't shut up about it—but sometimes it's really nice, too."

"You talk to Edward about your relationship with Sam?"

I blush. "Well…no, not really. Only…well, mostly only when it involves Ava."

She scrunches her nose. "Mostly only?"

We laugh at my stupidity, causing Ava to stir in her sleep and the guys to stop their dribbling and glance our way.

"Shh," I giggle as we're settling down. "I don't want Ava to wake up or she'll want to sleep here. I've had about all I can take of my parents today."

"Seems like they did pretty well with Edward," she comments, her voice slightly hesitant. My issues with my parents have been a constant topic of conversation for as long as we've been friends.

I shrug. "Well enough. It was a little awkward at first, but then it just seemed like old times."

"Minus the whole blow-jobs-in-the-bathroom thing," she points out.

Mortified, I glance in Emmett and Edward's direction to make sure they haven't heard. "Yeah," I hiss, glaring at her. "Minus that."

"He'd die for a blow job," she mutters, smirking confidently.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"He wants you." She shrugs. "I can tell."

"Yeah, well, he had me. It didn't work out too well."

"You said he's changed."

I nod, watching him dribble the ball lazily. "He has. He's settled down a lot, and he's a good dad—"

"He really is," she interrupts, her pretty blue eyes suddenly serious.

"I know." I sigh, pushing the hair back from Ava's face. "She's crazy about him."

"And he's crazy about her," she echoes.

We swing in silence for a bit, while I contemplate what she's said. Eventually, when the guys are sweaty and sore, they join us on the porch.

"You ready to head out?" Emmett asks Rose, pushing the swing lightly with his knee.

She nods, letting him pull her up by her hands.

They rarely stay at Emmett's and my house these days, but I ask just to be sure. "Are you going to Rose's?"

There's a long pause while they exchange awkward glances. Finally, my brother nods.

I kiss Rose's cheek before they head inside to gather their things. Emmett tells me they'll lock up on their way out, and I'm grateful for any excuse to avoid another confrontation with my parents. They retreated inside earlier, claiming sun exhaustion, but I wouldn't be surprised if they're waiting and watching us now.

"Want me to carry her to your car?" Edward asks, pocketing his car keys and freeing his hands.

"That'd be great. She's so heavy when she's asleep."

He lifts Ava gently from my lap, placing a hand against the back of her head when it rolls tiredly.

"Daddy?" She blinks her eyes sleepily, wrapping herself around him tightly.

"I've got you," he whispers, rubbing her back softly. He leads us down the driveway to my parked car, waiting while I unlock the doors and clear the books and stuffed animals surrounding Ava's seat.

I watch as he lifts her smoothly inside, the muscles in his arms flexing against the weight of her still-sleeping body. More than ice-cream or raspberries blown on sun-drenched cheeks, this action hits me like a ton of bricks. She has a dad. A dad who can lift her easily when I struggle under the weight of her growing body. It's so common—so normal—and yet it's one more reminder that parenting is meant to be a team effort.

After she's buckled in and sleeping soundly, he shuts the car door gently, turning to face me. His nose is slightly pink from the sun. "Thanks for inviting me today." He smiles softly. "I had a great time."

"Me too. I'm so glad you came to face the music."

I bite back a squeal when he grabs me playfully, digging his chin into the ticklish spot between my neck and shoulder.

"No making fun of me," he growls.

I giggle, my attempts to squirm away futile. "Never," I say, feigning innocence.

His playful touch against my neck turns gentle, his nose tracing my jaw softly. I press my hands against his chest; so solid and warm and present. "Edward," I breathe.

"Yeah?" His breath against my neck draws goosebumps across my entire body.

"What're you doing?" I whisper. My head spins, our past and present colliding in one overwhelming moment.

"You're so good with her," he whispers against my neck, his lips brushing my skin when he speaks. "So patient and strong. So beautiful."

His tracing turns into kissing, gentle passes across my neck and jaw that eventually lead him to the corner of my mouth. He lifts a hand to hesitantly brush the hair from my face. "Okay?" he asks softly, rubbing his thumb across my lips.

He smells like sunscreen and the summer I was sixteen, and my fragile heart beats hard in my chest. From nerves or want, I can't be sure, but I nod, leaning into his hand.

He bends down as I rise to my toes, our lips pressing softy together. His mouth moves slowly over mine, close-mouthed and sweet. His thumbs make slow passes across my jaw.

When his tongue licks a smooth line across my lower lip I fist his t-shirt, pushing him away. "Sam," I murmur, my chest rising and falling quickly.

"Uh…what?" He looks confused. Maybe even a little annoyed.

I shake my head, pressing my hands against his chest. "I can't do this to Sam." I watch the confusion on his face slowly fade to pain. "I don't want to hurt him, Edward. I owe him a conversation, at the very least."

He nods, dropping his hands from my face, squeezing my hips once. "Right." He smiles tightly. "Of course. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…uh…" He steps back, waving a hand back and forth between us.

"Edward, wait—"

"It's fine, Bella." He hugs me tightly, dropping a friendly kiss to the top of my head. "Drive safely, okay? I'll talk to you soon."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I watch him retreat to his car, my mind grappling with the ups and downs of this emotional day.

More than anything else, one moment stands out above the rest.

I kissed Edward.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for your patience.

A/N: Thanks to Robzbeanie and Tiffanyanne3 for their beta skills, and to cejsmom for pre-reading (and for (kindly) lighting a fire under my ass). All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 23 teaser:

"Yesterday went so well…with your parents." He's upset; pleading with me to understand. I don't, but I nod my head, encouraging him to continue. "I thought I could do it. I thought I could tell my family about Ava."

My eyes widen. This isn't what I was expecting at all. "What happened?"

Unshed tears make his eyes shine like green glass. "I was horribly wrong."