Chapter 52

Dean’s POV

My darling Dean,

I'm writing this from the couch, eight months along, ankles the size of a small country, and your father just left to get me pickles and ice cream at eleven at night without complaining once, which honestly should tell you everything you need to know about him before you're even old enough to judge him for yourself.

I'm writing this because I'm a mess right now. A genuinely emotional disaster. I cried at a commercial for paper towels yesterday. I repeat: I cried actual tears over paper towels, because the little cartoon family in it looked so happy wiping up a spill together. I think if I don't put some of this down on paper, the people around me are going to start hiding from me out of pure self-preservation, so I'm sparing them and telling you instead, even though you can't actually hear a word of it yet.

I've wanted you for so long. Longer than you'll pr