She rose. “Thanks for talking to me. I thought we should get to know each other a little, and this has been nice.”
“Of course. Stop by any time.”
Victoria grinned. “Don’t say that. What if I believe you, and you can never get rid of me?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.”
She looked at Cindy. “You’re a good mom. Shannon’s lucky to have you in her life.”
“You’re sweet to say that.”
Cindy surprised her by stepping close and hugging her. When she stepped back, she added, “You’re strong, Victoria. Whatever happens, you need to remember that.”
“I will.”
When she got to her car, she stowed her crutches, then slid into the driver’s seat. Shewasstrong, she told herself. And independent and all kinds of other words. Lately it seemed she’d been forgetting that. Yes, the hits kept on coming, but she could handle them. She was bigger than the pain, and it was time she started acting like it.
Ava stood in the center of the nursery. In the past few days, she’d taken to coming in here when she got home from work. The familiar space was somewhere she could feel safe and lessalone. She and Milton still weren’t getting along—words that didn’t describe the situation, but she didn’t know how else to explain it to herself. He wasn’t angry. Not exactly. He was... distant, she supposed. He went through the motions of living with her, but his mind and his heart were elsewhere.
She moved to the rocking chair and sat down. The feeling was so familiar, she thought, letting the pain wash through her. She’d sat here for hundreds of hours, maybe more. At first while the artist had painstakingly painted the mural on the wall. Ava had been quiet, so as not to disturb her, but she’d needed to see the vision being born. She’d watched leaf by leaf as the masterpiece had come to life. Each day more tinyVictorias had been woven into every inch of the picture. She’d watched and imagined how it would feel when that precious baby was placed in her arms for the first time.
Now she closed her eyes as she remembered her younger self and felt the same longing she’d experienced all those years ago. How she’d ached for her daughter, had imagined her growing up. She remembered bringing Cindy to see the room and how the teenager had burst into tears. At the time Ava had assumed it was simply pregnancy hormones, but looking back, she wondered if even then Cindy had been having doubts and if the tears had been because she knew she couldn’t possibly give away her baby.
Ava supposed she would never have all the answers she wanted. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if they mattered anymore. She’d hurt Victoria, which had never been anything she wanted, but of course her daughter’s pain made sense. Ava had been thoughtless—not realizing that Victoria and Shannon might talk and that of course finding out about the name would be yet one more blow.
At the same time, Ava felt trapped in the past. Shannon was so different from how Ava had imagined her, yet looked so much like Cindy. Personalitywise, she didn’t think they werethat much alike, and Shannon was certainly struggling to find herself. Knowing that, Ava wanted to step in and help. She’d been wrestling with that for days, knowing that Milton might not see the action for what it was—a simple moment of kindness. But given where they were, there was every chance he wouldn’t understand.
“There you are.”
She looked up and saw him standing in the door. Immediately she stood, telling herself she had no reason to feel guilty and yet she did.
“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I lost track of time. I’ll start dinner right away.”
He stayed where he was, blocking her way. “You’ve been spending more time in here than usual.”
Given that until recently she’d rarely entered the room, she nodded. “The past seems so close these days.” She risked looking at him, braced for anger or derision, but only saw the man she’d loved since the day she’d met him.
Was he going to forgive her? Could she hope they could find their way back to each other?
“You think I should move on,” she said, knowing she had to tell him the truth. “I have in some ways, but I guess I haven’t in others.” She motioned to the mural. “I know you want me to paint that over.”
His expression turned sad. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am. It’s just confusing right now. I was wrong about the memory box. I shouldn’t have shown it to Shannon. It’s just she was going to be ours, and knowing that still has the power to hurt me. I wanted to connect with her, if only for a moment.”
He sighed. “I know you meant well.”
“She’s a photographer. It’s her passion. There’s a weekend seminar I’d like to get her into so she can explore possibilities. But I won’t do it if you tell me not to.”
His shoulders slumped. “You’ve never asked my permission before.”
“You’ve never been angry at me before. Not like you are now.”
“Ava.”
He crossed to her and pulled her close. The feel of his arms around her, the familiar warmth and the steady beating of his heart, shattered her control, and she began to cry.
“Shhh,” he murmured. “It’s all right. I’m here.”
