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“I’ll miss you, Peppy Girl. You’ll always be my first love.” His voice hitches with the admission. Fiery moisture pools in my vision. “Ditto, Ten. I’ll never forget you.”
“Our paths will cross again, Peppy Girl.”
Presley waits at the end of this dark tunnel. There’s no convincing me otherwise.
“You expect me to believe that you love my son?” The notion is outrageous, even if Archie is the cutest thing since puppies and kindergarten crafts. “Yes.” His casual tone rolls over my aggravated nerves. “How?” The thrum in my pulse skyrockets while I wait for his response. “He’s a part of you, Pep. It’s just natural.”

