Rachel
One hour earlier
“Hey. Your son’s talking to you.”
Sophie’s voice is what finally snaps me out of my thoughts. I look down and, as she said, Cayce is there with a toy that probably belongs to Gwen, Sophie’s eldest.
“Mom, look! I want one like this, too!”
“We’ll add it to your Christmas list,” I say.
“But Christmas was just now!”
“Your birthday list, then.”
“That’s in way too long!”
I sigh, exasperated. The last thing on my mind right now is arguing about gifts.
“Cayce, you and your brother already have lots of toys at home. I’m not having this argument with you.”
The twins turn six in June. If you ask me, that’s the perfect equilibrium between Christmas and a birthday, but he hasn’t figured that out yet.
Cayce is about to argue, but then Sophie interrupts him.
“You can come play with Gwen’s toys anytime, Cayce. You’re practically cousins now!” She ruffles my son’s hair, which earns her a giggle.
Seemingly happy, he goes back to play with Corey, Gwen, and Sophie’s middle kiddo, Heather.
Julian, on the other hand, sits firmly on Sophie’s lap, ever the velcro toddler. At eighteen months, he can walk and climb perfectly fine on his own, and even play with the older kids when they’re being careful, but the energy of the others seems to intimidate him.
I grab my mug of tea from the small table and lean back against the cushy sectional. Right now, the kids are busy building a fort in the remainder of the living room. Océane is in the middle of it all, helping the kids in tasks where height is necessary, despite her own short stature. Give Gwen a few years, and she’ll dwarf her.
For a moment, I’m able to stop obsessing over how Karan must be doing, home alone, shifting that focus on my sister instead. Her face is alight with laughter, her cheeks warm and pink. I can only guess what type of pain is going through her body at the moment, but despite it all, she’s having a grand time with these kids.
“I’ve got to admit,” I start, gazing back at Sophie, “Océane really seems to have thrived here. I shouldn’t have been nervous at all.”
Sophie winks. “Told you.”
Today, her golden hair is tucked back in a mom bun, and I’m envious of how the cozy yet cute matching set of lilac sweats complements her long body.
How Sophie always looks put together even when rocking a ‘mom’ style is beyond me.
“But honestly, I think she’s the least of your worries right now,” Sophie adds.
“I know.” An impossible weight sits so heavily on my chest it’s a miracle that I can breathe. “But I’ve been there for him, Soph. I’ve tried so, so hard all week.”
I take a sip of the herbal tea to calm myself down.
“I literally had no other focus but him. He’s been completely catatonic.”
“I’m really not surprised,” Sophie points out, arching an elegant eyebrow. “That man and his parents were attached at the hip. Pretty sure they forgot to cut the umbilical cord thirty-one years ago. And now, he’s cut that cord. That must hurt like hell.”
“Yeah. I’ve been telling him for over a year.” I purse my lips and let air out. “I only wish I could help him feel better.”
“It’ll come with time, I’m sure. That man had literally no control over his life, and now that he’s taken back that control, it must feel alien to him.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
