My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 106 SIX YEARS

GRANT POV

I sat in the hotel room, staring at the two photographs on my phone. Pictures I’d taken today at that park. Two boys with dark hair and grey eyes that mirrored my own. Phoenix and Asher. Their names had been easy enough to discover after a few questions to the right people in that small town and everyone was happy to talk about Elizabeth Moore’s twins.

Elizabeth Moore. The name Nova had been hiding behind for six years.

Six years of searching. Six years of false leads and dead ends. Six years of wondering if she was alive or dead, if our baby had survived, if I’d ever see her again.

And she’d been living a quiet life in some nowhere town, raising my sons with another man. The rage that thought brought was something I’d learned to control over the years.

I thought back to those first few weeks after she disappeared. The panic started then the obsession. I’d torn apart that motel room looking for any clue she might have left behind. Found her phone. Found the pregnancy tests. Found evidence that the woman I loved was carrying my child and had chosen to vanish rather than face me.

At first, I thought it was fear. Fear of Lena, fear of the scandal, fear of what our relationship meant. I’d told myself that once I found her, I could fix it. Could make her understand that I’d handle everything. That I’d protect her.

But as the weeks turned to months, and the months turned to years, a different truth had settled in. She hadn’t just been running from Lena or the scandal.

She’d been running from me.

That realization had nearly destroyed me.

I’d disowned Lena within days of discovering her involvement. Cut her off completely. She’d tried to apologize, tried to explain, tried to justify what she’d done. But I’d seen Bianca in her eyes, that same cruel vindictiveness that had poisoned my marriage. I’d told her she was dead to me, and I’d meant it.

Bianca herself had disappeared shortly after. Probably realized I was coming for her and ran like the coward she was. I’d hired the best investigators money could buy to track her down, but she’d gone to ground. Good. The further away from my life she stayed, the better.

The first year was the hardest. I’d mobilized every resource I had. Private investigators, hackers, connections in law enforcement. I’d tracked the G-wagon’s sale, followed the money trail, hit dead end after dead end.

Nova Hart had vanished like smoke.

By year two, my investigators suggested she might be dead. That maybe I was chasing a ghost. That a young woman, pregnant and alone, might not have survived.

I’d fired all of them and hired new ones.

Year three, I’d found the storage unit. Full of her things like textbooks, clothes, jewelry Luca had given her. Everything that marked her as Nova Hart, abandoned in a rented space she’d paid for in cash. The trail went cold there.

Year four, I’d started expanding the search parameters. Looking at every small town within driving distance of that motel. Checking hospitals for birth records, schools for enrollment, anything that might give me a clue.

Nothing.

Year five, I’d almost given up. I almost convinced myself that maybe they were right. Maybe she was gone. Maybe I needed to let go and move on.

Then Luca called me with a lead. A woman matching Nova’s description had been spotted in a small town three states over. It had been another dead end, but it had reignited something in me. The hope that she was still out there. That my child was still out there.

Year six. This year. I’d been in the area for a business acquisition, some small manufacturing plant that was barely worth my time. But it was close to one of the towns I hadn’t thoroughly checked yet. Close enough that I’d decided to take a detour on my way back.

And then I’d seen them.

Two boys playing in a park. Dark hair catching the sunlight. Grey eyes—my eyes—bright with laughter. They looked so much like me at that age it had stopped my heart.

I’d watched them for over an hour. I watched them play and laugh and call for their mother. Watched a man—Sam—show up and swing them around like they were his whole world.

Watched them call him Dad.

That had been a knife to the chest. Watching my sons call another man Dad while I stood there like a stranger.

When Nova finally appeared, it had taken everything in me not to march over there immediately. But I’d waited. Watched her interact with the man, with the boys. Saw the easy familiarity between them. The life they’d built.

The life that should have been mine.

I’d followed them to that house. Found out about the funeral. Realized this was probably the only reason Nova had come back to this area at all. She’d been perfectly content to stay hidden forever.

The confrontation in that kitchen had been... explosive. Seeing her after six years. Older, different, but still her. Still the woman I’d loved with an intensity that had consumed me.

And she’d looked at me like I was the enemy. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Maybe I was. Maybe showing up and demanding my place in my sons’ lives made me the villain of this story. But I didn’t care. I’d spent six years grieving a future I thought I’d lost. I’d earned the right to be angry.

My phone buzzed. A text from Ivin: She’s on her way up.

I’d stationed him in the lobby to let me know when she arrived. Couldn’t risk her backing out or running again.

A knock at the door.

I took a breath, straightened my suit, and opened it.

Nova stood in the hallway, looking small and terrified. She’d changed clothes to jeans and a sweater instead of the black dress from earlier. Her hair was pulled back with no traces of makeup and as usual she looked exhausted.

She looked beautiful.

"Come in," I said, stepping aside.

She hesitated, then walked past me into the room. I closed the door, and the click of the lock sounded final.

"Where’s Sam?" I asked.

"With the boys. At a motel across town." Her voice was tight. "He wanted to come with me, but I told him this needed to be private."

"Smart." I gestured to the sitting area. "Sit."

"I’d rather stand."

"Sit, Nova." It wasn’t a request.

She sat.

I poured myself a whiskey from the minibar, offered her one. She shook her head.

"Still don’t drink?" I asked.

"Not much. The boys—" She stopped, like saying their names to me felt wrong.

"Phoenix and Asher," I said. "You named them Phoenix and Asher. Why?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Phoenix means rising from the ashes. Asher means happy, blessed. They were... they represented a new beginning. A chance to start over after everything burned down."

"Poetic." I took a drink. "Did you ever think about what I’d want to name them?"

"You didn’t know they existed."

"Because you didn’t tell me." I set the glass down harder than necessary. "Let’s not pretend you were planning to ever tell me, Nova. If your godmother hadn’t died, I never would have found you. You would have kept my sons from me forever."

"I did what I thought was best—"

"For who? For you?" I leaned forward. "Because it certainly wasn’t best for them. Those boys have a father who would give them everything—the best schools, the best opportunities, a future without limits. And instead, they’re growing up in some small town with a man who fixes sinks for a living."

"Sam is a good man—"

"I don’t care if he’s a fucking saint!" My control snapped. "He’s not their father! I am! And you had no right to keep them from me!"

"You think I wanted this?" Nova’s voice rose to match mine. "You think I wanted to raise them alone? To watch them ask about their father and have to lie because I couldn’t tell them the truth?"

"What truth? That their father would have loved them? Would have been there for every moment if you’d just told me?"

"That their father’s daughter destroyed my entire life because I fell in love with him!" She was crying now. "That I was expelled, humiliated, turned into a viral joke because I made the mistake of loving you! That I ran because I knew if I stayed, Lena would find new ways to hurt me, and I couldn’t risk my children being caught in that crossfire!"

The words hung between us, sharp and true.

"I dealt with Lena," I said quietly.

"I know. Katie told me. You disowned her." Nova wiped her eyes. "But that doesn’t change what happened. Doesn’t change that I lost everything. My scholarship, my future, my reputation; all gone because your daughter decided I was a threat."

"And you think keeping my sons from me was justified revenge?"

"It wasn’t revenge! It was survival!" She stood up, pacing. "I was twenty-two, pregnant, and alone. I had no money, no home, no support. I did what I had to do to survive. And yes, that meant disappearing. That meant becoming someone else. That meant building a life where my children would be safe and loved and—"

"And ignorant of who they really are." I stood too, closing the distance between us. "They’re Calloways, Nova. They have a legacy, a birthright. And you’ve spent six years denying them that because you were afraid."

"I’m still afraid." Her voice broke. "I’m terrified, Grant. Because I know what happens now. You swoop in with your money and your power, and you take them from me. You get lawyers and custody battles, and I lose my children because I can’t fight a billionaire."

She wasn’t wrong. I could do exactly that. I had the resources to bury her in legal fees, to prove she’d been living under a false identity, to make a case that she was unfit.

But looking at her now—this woman who’d been through hell and somehow raised two boys who laughed and played and called another man Dad—

I realized something.

I didn’t want to destroy her. I wanted her.

I’d always wanted her.

"I don’t want to take them from you," I said quietly.

She looked up at me, suspicion and hope warring in her eyes. "Then what do you want?"

"I want my sons. I want to be their father and not in secret, not as some ’old friend,’ but as their actual father. I want them to know who I am. I want to be part of their lives." I paused. "And I want you."

"Grant—"

"I never stopped looking for you, Nova. Six years, and I never stopped. Do you know why?"

She shook her head.

"Because I love you. I loved you then, and somehow, despite everything, I still love you now." I reached out, cupping her face. She didn’t pull away. "I know you built a life with Sam. I know he’s been there for you and the boys. And I know this is complicated and messy and probably insane. But I’m offering you a choice."

"What choice?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Marry me."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Marry me. Come back with me. Let me give you and the boys everything you should have had six years ago. Protection, security, a real future. I’ll make sure Sam is compensated for his time, his investment in the boys. But they’re mine, Nova. And so are you."

"You can’t just—"

"The alternative," I continued, my voice hardening, "is I go to court. I prove you’ve been living under a false identity. I prove you kept my children from me deliberately. I have the best lawyers money can buy, and I will win custody. Full custody. And then you’ll be the one visiting them on weekends, watching from the sidelines while I raise our sons."

"You wouldn’t—"

"Try me." I meant it. Every word. "I’ve spent six years searching for them. I’m not walking away now. So you choose, Nova. Marry me, be a family, let me give all of you the life you deserve. Or fight me and lose everything."

She stared at me, tears streaming down her face. "That’s not a choice. That’s an ultimatum."

"It’s the only option I’m giving you." I wiped her tears with my thumb. "I know you’re angry. I know you’re scared. But deep down, you know this is how it has to be. Those boys need their father. And you..." I leaned closer, my lips almost touching hers. "You need me too. You’ve always needed me."

"I hate you," she whispered.

"No, you don’t." I kissed her softly. She didn’t kiss back, but she didn’t pull away either. "You hate that you still love me. But you do. And you know I’m right."

She closed her eyes, fresh tears falling. "What about Sam?"

"What about him? You’re not married. He’ll survive."

"He loves them—"

"So do I. And I’m their father." I pulled back, giving her space. "You have until tomorrow morning to decide. Eight a.m., I’ll be at your motel. You either leave with me, or you explain to a judge why you think it’s appropriate to raise my children under a false identity while denying them their birthright."

"Grant, please—"

"Eight a.m., Nova. Make the right choice."

I walked to the door, opened it. Waited.

She stood there for a long moment, looking at me with an expression that broke my heart. Then she walked past me, out into the hallway.

"Nova," I called after her.

She stopped, didn’t turn around.

"I meant what I said. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’m not letting you go again."

She didn’t respond. Just walked away, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

I closed the door and leaned against it.

Six years. Six years of searching, of hoping, of grieving.

And tomorrow, I’ll finally have my family back.

Even if I had to force it.