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Lucy giggled, hiding her face in my leg.
“Would you give your mommy a hug, sweet girl?”
I wanted to growl. The fact she called herself “mommy” was laughable. But this was for Lucy. I patted her back reassuringly. “Go ahead, honey.”
Lucy closed the gap between herself and Lisbeth and threw her arms around her neck. Regardless of the time between visits or her absence, Lucy always melted into her arms. No amount of hurt could change that she was her mother.
“You must be Yves.” I stepped toward the overly tanned guy who was dressed for anything but winter in New York. His wool peacoat could not have been doing anything to keep him warm with his shirt unbuttoned so low.
He smiled smugly. “I am. Nice to meet you, Wesley.”
We shook hands.
“And this must be Lucy. I’ve heard so much about you!” Yves cooed to her as if she was much younger than six.
Lucy looked at me and then back at Yves. She held out her hand to him. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I could hear Cara stifle a giggle behind me. I smiled over my shoulder at her.A woman after my own heart.
“Ah. Yes. Like father like daughter, I suppose.” Yves awkwardly shook her hand.
“And this is Cara, Lucy’s nanny. I hope you don’t mind that she’ll be joining us today.” I stepped aside and gestured to Cara.
Lisbeth raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know Lucy had a nanny. I remember you saying just a couple of years ago that you didn’t need one.”
That was true. And also, wishful thinking on my part. Running multi-billion-dollar businesses definitely didn’t equate to an excess of free time.
Cara stepped into the awkward silence and shook both their hands. “Nice to meet you. Your daughter is a joy.”
“I’m sure she takes after her mother in that way.” Yves put his arm around Lisbeth’s waist.
I wanted to vomit.
“Why don’t we move into the living room and you and Lucy can talk?”
Yves removed Lisbeth’s coat and she shook out her long dark hair. “Yes, let’s get started.” She took Lucy’s hand. “I don’t want to waste a minute.”
As she walked past me, her coldness seemed palpable. We hadn’t even managed to greet each other. What kind of message were we sending our daughter?
Yves followed them, and then Cara, who squeezed my arm as she passed me.
Our eyes met for just a split second, and instantly, I felt at peace. She was more than I deserved, especially after I broke her heart. As she reached out, the charm of her bracelet hit my arm. It had to mean something that she hadn’t taken it off.
Once settled in the living room, Yves and Lisbeth made quite a show of giving Lucy a present — a pair of slippers with giraffe faces on them. Lucy was enchanted by them and immediately took off her shoes to wear them. I had to give Lisbeth credit; she remembered the little things. But knowing favorite animals and colors were barely scratching the surface of what it meant to be a parent.
Lucy led the conversation. She sat in her own chair instead of next to any of us on the sofas, making it very clear this was Lucy’s world and we were all just living in it.
I have to say, I was proud of her.
Lucy held a glass of chocolate milk with two hands in front of her, sipping it in between questions. “So you’re marrying my mommy.”
Yves chuckled. “That’s right.”
“Are you and Mommy going to have babies?”
I nearly spat out my coffee. Right to the point, this kid.
“Um. Well.” Lisbeth hesitated.
