Page 165 of Hometown Halftime

And God, the certainty in his voice nearly ruins me on the spot.

Everyone standing in the driveway erupts around them the second Brynn turns the carrier toward us. Kate starts crying. Then Brynn cries harder because Kate’s crying. Meanwhile, Knox just stands there grinning so hard I think his face might break, while Beau blinks sleepily up at all of us wrapped in a blue blanket.

“That’s my son,” Knox says quietly, and the pride in his voice settles over all of us.

Brynn wipes beneath her eyes while laughing again. “Okay, somebody say something before I completely lose my mind.”

Evie steps forward first, staring into the carrier with absolute awe.

“He’s tiny,” she whispers.

“He’s perfect,” Brynn says.

Knox glances down at his wife with so much love on his face it brings tears to my eyes. Then he leans down and kisses the top of her head before looking back at all of us.

“Alright,” he barks, full football-coach authority returning. “Everybody wash your hands before touching my son or I’ll throw you into traffic.”

“There he is,” Ty mutters.

The house fills with noise minutes later.

The kitchen is filled with the dishes we all brought for potluck while people crowd into the kitchen and living room talking over each other loud enough that laughter seems to bounce off the walls. Somebody starts another pot of coffee. Kate’s trying to stop Luke from stealing frosting off the cake that Brynn’s mom brought over while Cam keeps telling her to sit down and relax. Ty holds Levi around the waist near the dining table while Knox slowly walks Beau around the house with this quiet confidence that makes it obvious that he was built for fatherhood.

And for a little while, I almost let myself settle into it too.

Then Ty says something ridiculous near the kitchen island, and before I can stop myself, my head turns toward the empty spot beside me on the couch where Riley usually sat during Sunday dinners.

But the space is empty. The ache that follows is unwelcomed.

Brynn stays curled in a chair nearby, watching Knox with shining eyes, one hand pressed over her mouth every time somebody calls her mom. She looks emotional enough that I can practically see her trying not to cry every five minutes.

Watching them become parents is freaking beautiful.

But it also leaves this quiet ache sitting inside me because, God, Riley should be here for this.

Later that evening, after dessert and Knox refusing to let anyone hold Beau longer than thirty seconds at a time, Brynn corners me quietly in the kitchen while rinsing bottles.

“Are you okay?” she asks gently.

I force a smile. “Yep.”

Brynn raises one eyebrow.

“You’ve checked your phone six times in ten minutes.”

I exhale and lean against the counter. “I just wish Riley was here.”

“Have you told him that?”

I shake my head. “No. We haven’t talked since he left.”

Brynn frowns. “You could call him.”

I huff out a breath and glance down at my phone sitting beside the sink.

“I can’t.” My laugh comes out tired around the edges. “Because one phone call turns into texting, then we FaceTime, then we say, ‘maybe we should meet halfway somewhere for a weekend.’ And eventually we pretend this won’t hurt a thousand times worse later.”

Brynn rubs my arm gently. “I’m sorry, Kinsey.”