Not because I don’t feel for her. But because this is complicated. Because a dozen thoughts collide at once. How much this changes things. How protective I already feel.
But underneath all of that is something quieter and undeniable. If that were my baby, I’d burn the world down to see her.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “You can.”
Relief floods her face so fast it almost knocks her sideways. She nods quickly, tears still falling. “Thank you.”
This woman isn’t a villain. She’s a mother who looks wrecked and overwhelmed and desperate to know her baby is okay.
I lead her to the office and gently open the door wider. Owen looks up from my chair and Ellie sleeps on top of the desk in her carrier, peaceful and perfect with a blanket tucked around her. Madison steps closer, hands trembling, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.
“Oh,” she whispers. “She really is okay.”
I don’t say anything, firing off a text to Ollie that she’s here. I don’t know her, and I don’t know what her intentions are with Ellie. Weston said she can’t come and take her, but I don’t want to risk anything, especially without Ollie here.
Me: Madison is here at the shop. Do you want to come talk to her?
Ollie: On my way. Don’t let her leave.
“She’s very loved,” I say quietly, sliding my phone back in my pocket.
Madison nods, wiping at her face. “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep her.”
Owen watches all of this curiously and asks her, “Is that your baby?”
She nods, blinking back tears. “I can’t keep her, though.”
“It’s okay,” I say, because honestly, I have no idea what to say. I want Ollie to get here. He’ll know what to say.
She looks at me for a while. “Wait, you’re Poppy. I’ve seen you around.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Madison exhales, a shaky sound that feels like relief and grief all tangled together. And I know, standing there in the quiet of the shop, that this moment was always coming. And that nothing about this is going to be simple.
I close the office door behind us to keep the heat in and keep my voice gentle. “What happened, Madison?”
She stares at Ellie for a long second, as if looking away will let the courage leave her. “I don’t want kids,” she says, words tumbling out now. “Not now or ever. I can’t be a mom. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do.”
Her voice breaks, and she presses a hand to her mouth, shoulders shaking. “I didn’t know how to do this. I was afraid. Then at the hospital, I freaked out. I had to get out of there.”
I nod slowly, letting her talk. But I don’t understand. And I’m not sure I ever will. But this woman brought Ellie to us, so for that I am grateful.
“I just needed to know she’s okay,” she says through tears. “That she’s safe. That I didn’t ruin her life before it even started.”
“She’s okay,” I say softly. “She’s fed and warm and loved. She’s going to be just fine. Ollie’s a good brother and Cami is a great sister. She’s my best friend.”
Madison’s knees buckle a little, and I step forward without thinking, wrapping my arms around her. She cries into my shoulder, quiet and wrecked and human.
Owen looks at us with concern. He mouths to me, “Is she taking her?” and glances at Ellie, nervously.
I shake my head gently at him.
“You guys must think I’m a monster,” she says as she sobs.
“We don’t think that,” I whisper.
She nods against me, crying harder for a moment, then slowly pulls herself together. I keep my arms around her until her breathing steadies.
