Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Name after adoption?” Porter’s pen stills as she looks between us.
“Donovan,” we say at the same time.
Porter watches our faces for a beat longer, as if waiting for a wobble. Maddie’s chin doesn’t dip. Mine doesn’t either. All is quiet and it seems oppressively heavy.
Then Porter writes it down. Her pen slows, just for a second, as if she recognizes what that choice means.
Does she understand it’s about honor? Probably doesn’t care.
She caps her pen, stacks her pages.
“I’ve seen what I need to see,” she says. “I will submit my report with a recommendation for the court to approve the adoption.”
I’m stunned by the declaration because I thought for sure I’d fucked it up by calling her out.
The woman looks at Maddie and, to my further shock, adds, “Your documentation is meticulous. That will reflect favorably.” Then to me: “Travel schedules are a factor. Your co-parent’s clarity and the established routine mitigate that.” She adjusts her glasses. “Expect to hear from the court within six to eight weeks.”
“Thank you,” Maddie says, and it’s ragged around the edges but real.
Porter stands. We do the small dance of politeness as we walk her to the door, despite the fact that nothing about this felt polite.
There’s a professional handshake and then she’s gone. I let the door click shut and lean my forehead against it for half a breath. I realize my hands are balled into fists and I force myself to unclench them.
When I turn, Maddie is watching me, her expression guarded.
“She doesn’t get to define you,” I say. It comes out rough.
Maddie huffs what I think is meant to be a laugh and dies on the way out. “I know her job. I’ve done her job.” She swallows. “It still felt like being twelve and justifying why you should get to stay in a foster home.”
It hits so hard I have to put a palm on the doorframe to steady myself. Twelve. A number that should only ever mean birthday cakes and braces, not interviews with clipboards and cold chairs.
I cross the space between us, slow so she can sidestep if she wants to.
She doesn’t and I slide my hand along her forearm, then up to the back of her neck the way I do when Grayce is overtired and vibrating with feeling. Her skin is cool and goose-bumped. Her breath trips at the contact, but she doesn’t pull away.
“You were… unfairly amazing,” she says, voice small and fierce at the same time. “Thank you.”
“Always,” I say, because it’s the only thing that feels true. “Now… did you hear what that horrid woman said?”
Maddie’s mouth turns into a wide grin. “That she’s going to recommend the judge to grant the adoption!”
“Yes,” I exclaim and pick her up, twirl her around in celebration. When I set her down, she’s breathless and laughing. “Let’s go celebrate with ice cream.”
Maddie looks at her watch. “It’s a little past nine a.m.”
“Even more reason to celebrate,” I insist.
CHAPTER 26
Maddie
I ease Grayce’s door open and I don’t worry about a squeak waking her up. Atlas hit the hinges with WD-40 when he was covering all the outlets. The night-light glows in the corner, painting the room in a golden haze, and there she is—my whole world in twelve pounds of flannel pajamas.
She’s sprawled sideways across the crib, her little chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. It’s hard to believe that next week, she’ll turn one. The time has flown by, much more so because I was trying so hard to hang on to Gray as he withered away. My heart squeezes so hard with love for this little girl, I have to grip the doorjamb to steady myself.
I’m not her mother on paper, but looking at her, there isn’t a court in the world that could tell me I’m anything less. She’s mine in every way that matters.
And she’s Atlas’s too. I see it in the way he carries her, steady and sure, like she’s a natural extension of him. The ease with which he transitioned from single professional athlete to doting father is astonishing, but in truth, it’s who he is at his core. While our mutual love of Gray led us both to an agreement to raise Grayce, Atlas’s inherent ability to love sets him apart.
With me, it doesn’t come naturally, but I’m beginning to believe in it. At least with Grayce.
Loving her is effortless and unconditional. I never question if she’ll stay or if she’ll turn away. She’s an innocent, untouched by the world’s betrayals, and she trusts me with everything she has. That trust doesn’t scare me, it feels like a gift I’d bleed to protect.
I move to the crib and run a hand lightly across her soft hair. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”
She doesn’t stir, continuing with her peaceful slumber.
I slip back out, pulling the door until the latch clicks quiet. I make short work of my nighttime ritual. I wash my face, brush my teeth, pull on pajamas. The motions are grounding, a nod to the rhythm that has become my new life.