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“You think?” I bite out.

“I just…” He scrubs a hand over his face before lifting his gaze to mine. “I don’t want you to think you have to do this to make me happy. Or your mother happy. Or Wyatt happy.”

I throw my hands up in exasperation. “What is it with everyone’s obsession with my happiness lately? I am fucking happy, okay? This is what I’ve always wanted. I want a baby. I want a family. I want to wake up on Christmas morning to excited squeals because Santa came. I want to see my baby’s eyes light up with joy as he or she admires all the decorations. I want to take my baby to the tree farm to pick out our Christmas tree. I want to frost cookies. Make gingerbread houses. Build a snowman. I want to give my child everything you and Mom gave me. Is that such a bad thing?”

“It’s not.” He stands and moves toward me, squeezing my shoulders. “But when you imagine doing all of those things, who do you see at your side?”

I open my mouth, but no response comes.

“Do me a favor,” Dad says when I remain mute.

“What?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

“Close your eyes.”

“I don’t⁠—”

“Humor an old man who’s made a lot of mistakes. Just close your eyes, Wynter.”

I heave an aggravated sigh. But I close my eyes anyway.

“Think about the future you just described,” he begins, his voice gentle. “Your son or daughter waking up on Christmas morning. Going to the tree farm. Looking at Christmas lights. Baking cookies. Decorating a gingerbread house. Building a snowman. When you imagine all of those things, is Wyatt at your side?”

I keep my eyes closed, trying to put Wyatt in those scenes. I can see his face, but it doesn’t fit.

It should. Wyatt is my husband. The father of my baby. The man I’ve spent over a decade building a life with.

But no matter how hard I try, I don’t see him at my side.

Instead, a different face slides into place. Dark, unruly hair. A scruffy jaw. A slow smile meant only for me.

“Listen, Winnie…” My father takes my hand in his, and I open my eyes. “Marriage is hard enough when things are going well. A baby won’t fix what’s broken. It’ll only exacerbate the problems that were already there. No amount of wanting or hoping can change that.”

I press my lips into a tight line to prevent my chin from quivering. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Do what you think is best. But not for me. Or your mother. Or Wyatt. Or even your baby. Do what’s best for you. The rest will fall into place.” He pulls me into a hug, and I close my eyes, finding comfort in him.

My father and I may not always see eye to eye. And we’ve definitely had our fair share of disagreements, particularly lately.

But like Mom told me, he eventually comes around.

“Wynter?”

I pull away from my father as Wyatt appears in the doorway.

“You ready to go?”

I look at my father, unsure why. I guess it’s a habit.

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. In the silence, I hear everything he isn’t saying. That this decision is mine and mine alone.

I turn back to Wyatt and really look at him. This man has been a part of my life for more years than he hasn’t. My first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first everything. For years, I couldn’t imagine a future without him in it.

But standing here now, I can no longer ignore the truth.

This isn’t the man I want to wake up next to for the rest of my life.

I thought I owed it to our baby to work things out.