Grace's POV.
Tate, Rhyder and I spent the rest of the morning outside enjoying the glorious sunshine and light breeze.
And as I sat by one of the picknick tables standing in the shade of a large tree, I watched them chasing each other around on the grass.
Rhyder lifted Tate high up into the air, spinning him around a few times. When he set him back down again, Tate took off like a lightning strike, running away from his father as fast as his little legs could carry him.
The breeze played wistfully through his hair. His cheeks were flushed with colour, and his entire face was hidden behind a smile so wide it looked like it was about to split.
Rhyder looked so care-free as he set chase after our little boy. Like he didn't have a single care in the world.
He looked just as happy as Tate
