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Gray walks into the room as I'm trying to zip up my dress. I have one heel on, and my hair is only half blow-dried. We're supposed to be leaving for Gray's birthday dinner in fifteen minutes, and I'm all over the place.

"I think my zipper is stuck," I admit, defeated. I drop my fingers from my back zipper and turn to see him holding Archie, and they're both flashing me amused smiles. Gray spreads out a blanket on our bed and sets Archie down in our line of sight. He rolls onto his back and grabs his tiny feet in his hands, laughing manically to himself.

We both watch him for a second. "Where did we get this kid?" I ask.

Gray stands in front of me, already showered and dressed. "I don't know," he says, shaking his head. "His parents must be deranged."

"Must be," I agree, turning back around to look in the full-length mirror. "Can you zip me up, pretty please?"

He zips me into my dress, pressing a kiss to my shoulder afterwards and gazing at me through the mirror, smiling. I smile back, fluffing my hair.

"Something came in the mail for you," he says, reaching into his back pocket. I turn around and quirk my eyebrow. "I don't remember ordering anything," I say, looking down at his hand.

He holds an envelope out to me, and I look at the writing on the outside. I don't even have to read the return address to know who sent this; the distinct elegant handwriting is a dead giveaway. My mood darkens but I rip it open and read it anyway.

Then I tear it up into little pieces, throwing them onto the floor.

"Unbelievable," I mutter to myself. Gray doesn't say anything.

I shake my head. "Archer was born seven fucking months ago, and now she sends me a letter? Why even bother sending anything? God, she even has the audacity to ask to meet him, guilting me by talking about how special a grandbaby is. She's insane."

"You didn't tell her about Arch's birth?"

"She didn't deserve to know. He's ours," I spit. "Not hers, and I don't want that bitch anywhere near our son."

I feel my face redden just thinking about my mom getting her claws into Archie. I thought Gray would feel the same, considering all that she's put us through, but the only emotion on his face is concern--for me.

Without saying a word, he reminds me to take deep breaths.

"Riv, I think it'd be good for you to talk to her, at least once," Gray says gently. "Just to clear the air. Don't let her have this kind of power over you."

I shake my head. "Babe, I can't. She's the reason I forgot everything--why I forgot you. I may have forgotten what she said to me before my accident, but she can't erase my memories from my entire childhood," I say. "I don't want to see her ever again."

Gray nods his head, reading the distress written all over my face. "Okay, baby. I won't push you."

I breathe deeply a few times again, watching Archie sit up and flop forward onto his tummy, looking right back at me. His little fists curl around the edges of the blanket as he flails his legs behind him, burbling incoherently. I smile at him.

Gray reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to calm me down, and I feel his fingertips graze my thin scar.

I hate my scar and all the pain it's caused. Most people stare at it, and I know they wonder what happened to me—what's wrong with me. I feel like that's all people see when they look at me.

"She's the reason I have that," I add, pressing my lips together. His touch lingers on the jagged, raised tissue. He's the only person I'd ever let touch the painful reminder. Gray's the only one who seems to admire it and not pity me for it.

I take a few more deep breaths, closing my eyes to ground myself. Gray places a light kiss on my scar, and it tells me everything that words can't convey.

The memory of my mother's heartlessness is pushed to the back of my mind. It sometimes feels like my love for my husband is too immense that it leaves no room for other emotions.

My anger dissipates. When I open my eyes, Gray's still staring at me.

"What?" I ask, bending down to pull on my other stiletto. I hold onto his forearm for balance.

"Just remembering," he replies. "The moment you first woke up."

I straighten back up, tilting my head up at him. We're both transported back into a memory that is both happy and sad. Sometimes when I lay down, I can almost feel that haze and grogginess that drowned my senses that day I woke up in the hospital bed. We hardly ever talk about this; I always assumed it was too heartbreaking to bring up.

Sometimes I can tell Gray is thinking about my fall, the way the corner of his mouth tilts down and his eyes glaze over with sadness. Every once in a while, I wake up to him muttering my name in his sleep, tossing and turning in our sheets as he gets lost in a fitful nightmare. When that happens, I wipe sweat from his cold brow and gently pull him from his the darkness. Then I kiss the tears from his cheekbones as he gazes at me, reminding him that I'm not going anywhere

When Gray wakes up, he never tells me what he dreamed about. But we both know that our worst nightmares are of the other dying.

In a way, losing my memories was a gift. But Gray has to remember everything—every ounce of pain he felt leading up to my fall. He has to remember the feeling of almost losing me.

If I could take away all his pain, I would.

"Your eyes were the first thing I saw, you know," I say quietly, straighening his black tie. "Even though I didn't know who I was or what had happened, seeing you . . . calmed me."

I look back into his eyes: his stare just as intense as it had been that day. "Even when I didn't know much else, I knew you loved me."

Sometimes, fragments of memories come to me in flashes. Random visions. Searching in the dark for something. Unstable ground beneath me. Tiny, insignificant details I can never piece entire memories together. I used to hang on to those flashes of my past, hoping that they would all come back to me one day.

But the more time I spend with Gray, reflecting on the moments that we both remember together, the less those lost details seem to matter.

His arms smooth over my waist, landing on my lower back. He walks back and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling me so I'm standing between his legs. Gray rests his forehead on my chest, holding me against him, as if I'll disappear if he lets go. "I thought I lost you, baby."

"You can't get rid of me that easily," I say, running my hand through his styled hair, musing it the tiniest bit.

I look over Gray's head at Archie still laying on his stomach. I notice something.

"Did you put a bow tie on our son?" I ask. Gray lifts his head and turns to look at Archer, who's smiling at us. Looking closer, I think Gray might've actually put some gel in his three strands of hair, combing them back. He looks like a baby accountant.

Gray grins up at me, pulling me closer. "The Maddox men always dress up for special occasions. He looks sharp, doesn't he?"

I laugh then lean down to kiss him. Gray's hand snakes down the fitted curve of my dress, dangerously close to the hem.

When I break away, he starts kissing my collarbone. "It's my birthday, you know. I have a few wishes I want you to grant."

"I already granted about ten of your perverted little wishes today, birthday boy. And it's not even seven pm," I tell him, fighting off the temptation. "And the reservation Tommy made is in ten minutes."

"So?" He looks up at me innocently, while still caressing his hands over me.

"The restaurant is twenty-five minutes away."

"Fifteen minutes if I'm driving," he says, running his hands up the sides of my legs, under my dress. "If we we get straight to the point, we could be out the door in seven minutes. Then we're only twelve minutes late."

I shake my head teasingly. "Who knew you were so good at math? And arguing?"

He kisses me and shrugs. "What can I say? You married a genius."

"I guess I did," I say, then slide of out his grasp. Gray smacks my ass as I go to pick up the diaper bag, and I smack his ass as he puts Archie in his car seat, then rush to sit in the car before he can get me back.

We get to the restaurant only six minutes past our reservation. As Gray unbuckles Archie from his car seat, I text Peyton that we're here. She responds a second later telling me that she and Sadie are already sitting down. I breathe a sigh of relief, relieved that the restaurant didn't give our reservation away. Tommy told us that the wait for a table was over four months long.

"Go ahead inside to the table," Gray says, holding sleepy Archie in one of his arms and reaching for the diaper bag on the floor. "We'll join you in a second."

I shake my head, sliding my phone into my bag. "No need, Pey already got the table," I say. "You have no idea how hot you look right now with him in your arms."

Gray laughs then turns his attention to Archie, still fast asleep in his arms. With a gentle thumb, he strokes his tiny cheek, coaxing him awake. "Hey, little man. Ready to wake up?"

The baby's eyelashes flutter slightly, but he just snuggles deeper into his dad's chest, grabbing two fistfuls of Gray's shirt in his chubby hands and falling back asleep.

I'm in love.

Walking toward them, I say, "His basket carrier is in the back if you want to carry him in that."

But Gray shakes his head, opting to cradle Archie in his arms. He walks over to the valet stand and hands over the keys to our Range Rover, then he takes my hand and we go inside.

When we arrive at the table, it isn't just Sadie and Peyton already sitting down; Tommy and Violet apparently arrived before us as well. They're all talking as the hostess walks us up to the table, and Violet is animatedly telling a loud story. They stand to greet us as we approach.

We all hug, and then they immediately start vying for who gets to hold Archie. He started to wake up when we stepped into the restaurant, and I think hearing all the familiar voices only awakened him further.

Sadie lifts Archie out of Gray's arms, and Gray gives him one last kiss on the forehead before he gives his son up. As we all sit down, she coos at Archer and presses several kisses to his soft face. Peyton leans over next to her and tickles him on his stomach. He laughs, and Sadie sits him on her lap.

"Okay, my turn," Violet says, reaching over Peyton to lift Archie up. Her eyes are filled with baby-fever, and I see the slightly terrified look in Tommy's eyes. Gray laughs at him.

Peyton blocks Violet's reach for Archer, keeping her from taking in away from her and Sadie. "No way. We just got him."

Vi scoffs. "Well, I'm the better aunt so you're obligated to give him to me." She makes another grab, but Peyton leans over further.

"You live across the country, Miss California," Peyton fires back. "You've only seen him like four times since he's been born. I've seen him almost ten."

Violet attempts to move Peyton out of the way, but we all know she's the weaker of the two. "And? You live in freaking Portland, Pey. You only came to play your little soccer match. Now give him, you freaking beach."

I appreciate her attempts to limit her vulgar language in front of Archie. But Archie's getting overwhelmed by all the loud talking going on around him, and his bottom lip starts quivering.

I butt in. "You guys are both great aunts that live ridiculously far away. Now will you please stop fighting over my son?" I plead. Both girls look at me with apologetic faces, calming back down. But it's too late.

Archie starts whimpering, getting that look on his face that tells me he's on the verge of tears. He holds his little arms out toward Gray, begging his dad to get him away from the insane women around him.

"Aw, it's okay, Archer. That's enough of your crazy aunties for tonight," Sadie says as she gets up to hand him off.

Gray stands up and leans over the table, quickly scooping Archie into his arms and pressing the baby into his broad chest protectively. The gesture calms Archie down immediately, and he rests his cheek on Gray's white dress shirt. Gray rubs his back.

The rest of them watch this right alongside me. "Riv, did you or Gray give birth to Archer? It's kind of hard to tell right now," Tommy remarks, holding back a chuckle. Violet outright laughs.

I sigh dramatically. "Sometimes it's hard for me to tell." I lean over and stroke Archie's head lightly, then press a kiss to the same area.

When I sit upright in my seat, I realize that there are two extra seats at the table, and we're all already here. I raise my eyebrow at Tommy, who made the reservations here. "Did you reserve a seat for Archie? And Chewie?"

Everyone but me and Gray glance at each other, as if they're in on something that we're not aware of. I glance at Gray, wondering if he knows anything, but he just shrugs and continues to calm Archie down.

"For the record, this was my idea," Tommy says. I grow even more confused.

Then a familiar dirty blonde steps out from behind a corner, smiling widely. I gasp and immediately stand up, holding my arms out to her for a hug. Gracie rushes over to me and hugs me tightly.

"I thought you weren't getting back for another week, Gracie," I say into her hair. We break away and I take in her tanner, stronger appearance. Soccer camp really put her through a ringer.

"I have my ways," she says elusively.

"I paid for her ticket down," Tommy says.

Gracie nudges me playfully, then turns to Gray, who's already standing as well. She gives him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Don't listen to Tammy. I just couldn't miss my big brother's birthday, even if it meant missing the last day of camp."

Gray just hugs her again, carefully with Archie still in his arms, and I hear him say something about how much he missed her. They share a small sibling moment and Gracie kisses her nephew's little bald head. Then she sets eyes on Peyton.

"Oh my gosh, Aunt Pey! I saw your goal on TV yesterday. It was sick!" She exclaims, wriggling out of Gray's grasp.

Gracie turns away from her brother and goes to talk to Peyton. Gray sighs, and I pat his cheek in mock sympathy as we both sit back down.

At the same time, we both spot the other person who has arrived at our table. He's standing a few feet from us with his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking around nervously.

"Liam," Gray says, surprised. "Good to see you here."

The tone of Gray's voice says otherwise. He gestures for the boy to come over and talk to us, and Liam has no option but to oblige. He shoots a look at Gracie, who is leaned over next to Peyton and having an in-depth conversation with her. He, too, is tanner and stronger from the weeks of harsh soccer training. But right now, he just looks terrified.

"Hey, River," he says to me, lifting his head to smile at me. I smile back as Gray keeps his sharp eyes on the boy.

Then Liam finally turns to Gray, almost shaking in his shoes from just making eye contact with him. "Hey, Grayson."

Liam is standing next to us, looking down at me and Gray sitting, but he's still at a disadvantage in this situation. Gray doesn't say anything, and I can only imagine the terrifyingly cold look he's shooting the poor kid on front of us. I feel the nerves radiating off the fifteen-year-old boy, and I take Archie out of Gray's arms.

Liam stutters, "I mean, Mr. Grayson. I mean—I mean sir. Hello sir."

Gray laughs, reaching his arm up to pat Liam hard on the shoulder in a manner some may perceive as friendly. "Come on, kid. I'm joking. Lighten up," he says to Liam, in a tone that is anything but light.

"No need to call me sir," he continues. Then his voice gets grows more commanding. "You can call me Mr. Maddox. And River is Mrs. Maddox to you."

"Gray, we've known him since he was seven. Leave the kid alone," I say sternly, swaying Archie in my arms. Gray looks at me, and I give him a look. He clears his throat then takes a long sip of water.

He leans back in his chair, and the table suddenly falls silent. "So, Liam," he says stoically, "Why did you come down with Gracie? Your mom okay with this?"

Liam nods frantically, eager to get on Gray's good side. Gray takes another long sip of water, still studying the boy.

Gracie groans next to Liam. "Gray, I brought him down to have dinner with everyone because he's my boyfriend."

Gray's posture snaps up as he almost chokes on his water. Archie jolts awake in my arms at the sound of his dad's surprise. I watch the scene unfold in front of me, praying for Liam's safety.

The waitress comes up to our table, ready to take our orders. She sees the fury radiating off Gray and quietly turns to leave, muttering about coming back in a few minutes.

"He's your what?" Gray growls, leaning forward to look at the young couple. "He's a boy that's your friend, right Grace?"

Gracie just rolls her eyes at his outburst and use of her real name, silently answering his question. Liam looks like he'd rather be anywhere but in this restaurant.

Despite his fear, Liam pulls out Gracie's chair for her before sitting in his own seat. Gray watches the sweet gesture with a pointed gaze. I press a swift, calming kiss to his cheek.

"Well, I think that fantastic news, Gracie," I say, raising my glass of water in a toast. "About damn time."

Violet cheers in agreement and clinks her glass against mine. "To Gracie and Liam! Been building that romantic tension since they were seven years old."

Everyone but Gray laughs and toasts. Thankfully, this seems to relax Liam a bit, and Gracie kisses him on the cheek after they clink their water glasses.

After the waitress comes back to take our orders, Violet starts interrogating Gracie, asking every question possible about how he asked her to be his girlfriend. Then the entire table is talking about how cute they are. Except Gray.

While everyone is distracted, I rest my chin on his shoulder, stare up at him. Gray looks down at me and his gaze softens. Archie, woken up again by loud, familiar voices, leans toward his dad and falls over onto Gray's legs. Gray chuckles and props him up in his lab, holding his tiny hands in his.

"She's still your baby sister, you know," I say. "She's just growing up a bit."

He sighs and rests his hands over Archie's legs. "I knew it'd be difficult." With one thumb, he wipes a bit a drool from Archie's chin. "But I'm glad she has him."

I laugh. "Liam? You're glad she has Liam? You just chewed the poor kid's head off," I muse quietly.

Gray smiles at me. "That's how I treat the guys I approve of. I don't know how I'll react the day Gracie brings home a piece of shit."

"Let's hope she never has to."

"Let's hope."

Archie says something incoherent from my lap, and we both laugh. "You hope too, Arch?" Gray asks him, earning a small laugh from the baby. Gray leans over him and makes a funny face. Archie bounces in his lap with more laughter.

Our food comes a few minutes later, bringing our conversation to a lull as we start digging into our overpriced food. I find myself hardly eating at all, too enamored by the sight of Gray slowly feeding Archie mashed potatoes. The corners of his mouth and his chubby cheeks are covered in the food as he waits patiently for each