She carefully went through the other two totes. At the end of an hour, she was no closer to making a decision than she had been when she’d started. Finally she just put everything away and promised herself she would figure it out in a few days. Or next month.
At about five she went into the kitchen to start dinner, but for once her heart wasn’t in the work. She felt oddly heavy, and there was a sadness she just couldn’t shake. Still, she chopped and sautéed, but when she heard Milton’s car drive into the garage, she turned off the burners and ran to greet him.
The second his arms closed around her, she felt herself relax. He held her tight, as if he knew she needed him more than usual.
“I checked in with Victoria earlier this afternoon,” he told her after he’d kissed her. “She says she’s doing well.”
“I hope that’s true.”
He stared into her eyes. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
He waited patiently, not speaking. She sighed. “I’m shattered.”
The words surprised her—they hadn’t been what she’d planned to say, but there was no calling them back. But instead of looking surprised, Milton put his arm around her and led her into the family room. They sat facing each other on the sofa.
“Still?” he asked softly.
“This is a new kind of shattered.” But even as she spoke, she wondered if she was telling the truth. Was it new, or was it an unwelcome old friend who had haunted her for far too long?
“It was seeing Cindy again,” she admitted. “After all this time, it was a shock.” She remembered staring at the woman she’d once considered a friend. It had brought everything back to her: their past and how much she’d gone through.
“And seeing Shannon,” Milton added gently. He smiled. “I have trouble thinking of her with that name.”
“Me, too, but that’s how Victoria talks about her.” She tested the name on her tongue. “Shannon.She’s all grown-up.”
“Makes sense. It was bound to happen.”
“But it was supposed to happen with us,” she blurted. “She was supposed to be ours. We’d waited so long. We’d loved her and Cindy. We’d taken them both into our lives.” She fought against useless tears. There was no point in crying, she told herself. Nothing to be gained by giving in to emotion, and yet it was all there, fighting to get out.
“I loved her,” she repeated softly.
He put his arm around her, drawing her close. “I did, too.”
“We were so happy on that last trip.” The one they’d almostnot taken—but it had been planned. Their last getaway as a couple before the birth of their beautiful baby girl. Cindy had laughingly shooed them away when they’d talked about canceling to stay nearby. She wasn’t due for a couple more weeks, and first babies were notoriously late.
So off they’d gone, for ten days in Hawaii. They’d spent nearly every waking moment talking about how wonderful it would be when they finally held their daughter. They’d jokingly planned which elite high school they would send her to and which colleges they wanted to visit with her first. They’d talked about future family trips and how they would have to promise each other not to spoil her too much.
When they weren’t talking about the baby, they were making love or taking long walks on the beach. The time away had been so relaxing, so full of hope and promise, so magical. Then the day they’d returned, Cindy’s lawyer had called. Ava had known instantly that there was something terribly wrong—she’d heard it in the tone of the stranger’s voice, the way he’d paused before saying her name. She’d nearly collapsed, terrified that something was wrong with the baby—only it hadn’t been that simple.
“Cindy changed her mind. She wants to keep the baby. I’m sorry. I know you thought...” He’d gone silent for a few seconds. Ava remembered sinking to the floor, unable to breathe or think or speak. The next few seconds were a blur. What she did recall was begging the man to let her speak to Cindy. They had to talk, she had to understand. But he’d refused and had asked them not to contact her. Then he’d hung up.
“I never thought she’d change her mind,” she murmured now, safe in the loving arms of her husband. “Iknewher. We were friends, and I believed that she trusted us.”
“Her decision wasn’t about us,” he told her, much as he had all those years ago. “It never was. She couldn’t give up her child. She didn’t set out to hurt us on purpose.”
In her head, Ava knew he was right, but in her heart and down to her bones, she couldn’t believe anything except the depth of her pain. That had been the only real thing. It had claimed her, taking over her body. She remembered starting to scream and thinking she would never stop, because as long as she was screaming, as long as she wasn’t thinking or dealing or managing any of it, she didn’t have to believe it was real.
She’d been unable to comprehend that someone she thought of as family, as almost a sister, could do that to her. She’d trusted Cindy, had been there for her, cared for her. They’d talked about an open adoption with Cindy a part of their daughter’s life. Ava didn’t care about the things she’d bought, she cared about the broken trust.
“She never hinted,” Ava said now. “Not once. I would have noticed, I would have told you.”
“I know, my love. We both believed in her, and I don’t think we were wrong to trust her.”
“How can you say that? She betrayed us.”
He stroked her cheek. “No. She followed her heart. We’re talking about a mother’s love. It’s one of the most powerful forces on earth. Once she’d decided to keep her child, we never had a chance.”
