I stay there for a moment, letting them hold me, letting myself feel the fear and grief and relief all tangled together. Then I pull back, wiping at my eyes, trying to compose myself.
"The kids," I say, glancing over to where Riley and Isaac have gone back to playing, pointedly not looking at us even though I'm sure Riley heard everything. "We should probably do something fun with them. I don't want them to see me like this."
"They've seen worse," Wyatt says gently. "And they're resilient. But yeah, maybe we can take them to the park or something. Get everyone out of the house for a bit."
I nod, taking a deep breath, trying to shake off the heavy emotions. We can talk more about Marcus Richardson later. Right now, I need to be present for the kids, for this family I'm slowly becoming part of.
Amelia
Later that evening, after the park and dinner and the kids' bath time, I'm curled up on the couch again. Riley and Isaac are in their room, supposedly getting ready for bed but more likely jumping on Isaac's mattress. I can hear their laughter echoing from upstairs. Silas told them they had five minutes while he took care of the dishes but I assume he’s giving them a bit more time to wind down.
Hunter and Wyatt are on either side of me, all of us exhausted from a day of chasing energetic children around the playground.
As if summoned by my thoughts about the future, Riley appears at the edge of the couch in her pajamas, her hair still damp from the bath. She's got that serious expression on her face, the one that makes her look far older than six.
"Can I ask you something?" she says, twisting her fingers together.
I sit up a little straighter. "Of course, sweetie."
She comes closer, standing in front of me with her hands clasped together. "Do you love my dads?"
The question hits me like a punch to the chest. I glance at Hunter, then Wyatt, trying to figure out how to answer. We haven't talked about this or defined what we are to each other beyond the obvious physical connection, beyond the fact that I'm still here a week after my heat ended.
Well, I know we’re each others but discussions of bonding and what happens next haven’t really been a priority with everything else.
"Riley," Hunter starts, but she shakes her head.
"I want to know," she says stubbornly. "Because if she's just going to leave like everyone else, I need to know now."
The hurt in her voice, makes my chest ache. "I care about your dads very much," I say carefully, reaching out to take her hand. "And I care about you and Isaac too."
"But are you staying?" Riley presses. "Or are you going to go back to Uncle Dylan's house?"
I look at Hunter and Wyatt again, realizing we're having the conversation we should have had privately, but now it's happening in front of a six-year-old who deserves an honest answer.
"I don't know," I admit. "We haven't really talked about what happens next. I don't want to assume anything."
"We want you to stay," Wyatt says quietly. "We've wanted to ask. We just weren't sure if you'd want to. If you were ready for that."
"This is your home," Hunter adds. "If you want it to be. We'd like it to be."
My throat goes tight. "You're sure? I mean, it's only been a little while since..."
"I'm sure," Hunter interrupts. "I've never been more sure of anything."
"We all are," Silas calls from the kitchen, apparently listening to the entire conversation.
Riley is watching me with those serious eyes, waiting for my answer. Isaac appears a second later behind her now, probably drawn by the voices. This is both adorable and panic inducing, accepting their invitation at all once like this. However, it feels right. My nest at Dylan’s house hasn’t been my nest for a few weeks now and I can’t even imagine what it would be like without the chaos of the Kane family in my life.
"I'd like to stay," I say, the words feeling both terrifying and right. "If that's really okay. I know it's fast, and we're still figuring things out, but I don't want to be anywhere else."
Riley's face breaks into a smile, but there's still caution there. "For how long?"
"I don't know," I answer honestly. "But I'm not planning on leaving. Not unless you all get sick of me."
"Forever?" Isaac asks, his eyes widening with hope.
Forever is such a big word, such a huge commitment. But looking at these kids who've already lost so much, who need stability and certainty more than they need perfect honesty...
