“Baby, I’m so sorry,” I stutter and she sighs.
Her hands return to my arm and she buries her face there and sobs. As tightly as I can and with all the love and sympathy I have, I embrace her and plant kisses on her head. We are in this position for a few moments until we hear taps on the door.
“Mommie,” the girls utter in unison.
“Oh God,” she huffs then sniffles. “My babies,” she mumbles. Her head starts shaking feverishly then she lifts it. “They can’t…God, I can’t let them se?—”
After kissing her head again, I say, “I got them. We’ll order dinner.”
“Breakfast,” she mumbles.
“Got it. I’ll find breakfast and we will order it,” I assure her in a low tone.
“Oh, okay. Whew. I’ll try to…hell, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t stop crying. I can’t process this. She wants me to forgive her. Oh, this hurts,” she whispers.
“It’s okay to cry, baby, especially with them. They know you’re sad. You three are connected. They just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I know,” she says, then nods. I thumb the tears from her cheeks. She nods again then softly kisses my lips. “Let them in,” she says while still nodding, affirming her decision.
She inhales and exhales repeatedly as I stand. I walk to the door, and as soon as I open it, they run to her and she catches them in her arms. I watch for a few minutes as they love on eachother, her giving them what they need and them doing the same. When our eyes meet briefly, she mouths, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I mumble before walking out.
So much is going on and so many damn thoughts go through my mind. It wasn’t a true accident and Kadean did not cause it. Adora’s mother planned that. She wanted to be left in that car but I took her to the hospital and I have her phonein my pocket.Do I still tell her about it?
Although my mind is jumbled as fuck, I focus back on her and the girls. I told her that I would order dinner, well, breakfast. It’s almost eight and my options are limited. I search pancakes in the Munchies app and mini ones pop up on the Taco Express menu. They have a whole ass breakfast section and I order two orders of the pancakes, breakfast potatoes, and a couple breakfast tacos.
I’m sitting on the sofa, staring at something on the television screen when they walk out. Adora eases down next to me. Romi climbs on her lap and Averis snuggles up under her arm. I stretch my arm out and embrace all three beauties. Adora settles her head on my chest. Their love is so big; it consumes the room and eases all the tension I felt when I saw their tears.
“I’m hungry,” Romi says, breaking the comforting quiet.
“I ordered breakfast. It’s coming.”
“Thank you,” Adora says before leaning up and kissing me again. “Stay after dinner,” she pleads, but her request isn’t necessary. She needs me and me staying is automatic as fuck.
“I wasn’t leaving.”
The food arrives about thirty minutes later. Normally, we eat in the kitchen but not tonight. On the floor, scattered around the large coffee table, we eat together. After dinner, we remain on the floor, watching cartoons until the girls drift to sleep, Averi first, followed by Romi. I carry them to their room and Adora follows. While she tucks them in, I journey to her room. I’msitting on her bed when she walks in. After closing the door, she steps over to me and climbs into my lap, straddling me. I’m instantly hyperaware of the phone in my pocket.
“You good?” I ask, trying to gauge her emotions.
“Far from it,” she admits and a tear falls from her eye. “Can we not talk about it? I just want to sleep, and hopefully, process this in my dreams.”
“Whatever you want, I got you.”
Chapter 18
Adora
Ithought losing my mom had been the worst day of my life. I lost my foundation, the keeper of my secrets, my security blanket, my sounding board, and my heart. I felt lost without her. I never imagined I’d experience that agonizing pain again. I definitely didn’t think it would happen on Sunday.
The hurt and pain were indescribable, and at one point, I actually felt my heart break and the ache debilitated me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get off the floor and definitely didn’t want my children to see me. That thought made me think of my mother, her returned cancer, and her heart-wrenching decision.
She didn’t want me, her daughter, to see her suffer and die.
It’s been a few days and I’m still processing her words. I’m torn, teetering between rage and understanding. On one hand, I’m infuriated, pissed she’d made this decision on her own and furious that she followed through with it. And even though what she did hurts like hell, on the other hand, I understood her rationale. I still hate it; but I got it. I wholeheartedly disagree but because I love her with every fiber of my being, I’m choosing to forgive her. I can’t move on if I don’t.
I’m also taking what she did and her note to my grave. Besides the man I love—the same man who was there for me when I found out—no one will ever know. They don’t need to. I don’t want her life blemished by how she’d left it in any way.
