Mom’s expression softens instantly. “What’s going on, honeybean?”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it doesn’t go away. This isn’t just another bad day. This is something bigger. Something that I can’t keep pushing aside. “The hearing,” I murmur, glancing down at my hands as I pour coffee for a customer who’s just come in. “I’m just…I’m terrified, Mom. I’m terrified we’re gonna lose our little girl.”
She reaches across the counter, taking my hand in hers. Her fingers are warm and familiar, the kind of touch that makes everything just a little less scary. “Millie,” she says softly, “you’ve done everything you can. You and Gabriel have given her a home, love, and stability. That’s what matters, the life you’ve built for her.”
“But what if that’s not enough?” The words spill out before I can stop them. “What if the courts don’t see that? What if they think Haley deserves a shot to be her mom?”
Dad speaks up for the first time, his voice quiet butfirm. “Listen, sweetie. We’re all scared. She’s our granddaughter now, too. But what you’ve done for that little girl? It’s more than a piece of paper can define. More than anything her birth mother could offer. You’re her mother, and Gabriel is her father. That’s all that matters.”
I nod, my throat tight, and turn away, trying to hide the tears that threaten to spill over. But it doesn’t work. I feel one fall, then another, and soon my eyes are brimming. I wipe them quickly, trying to act like I’m not falling apart.
“We’re here for you, Millie,” Mom adds, squeezing my hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll stand by you. We always will.”
At the end of my shift, I’m exhausted and emotionally drained, and I can’t wait to get home. Gabriel’s there, of course, waiting for me. The moment I walk through the door, he’s standing near the island with Aura in his arms, my little girl grinning at me like she’s just seen the most wonderful thing in the world. And maybe she has—because right now, it feels like she is the only thing that matters.
“Hey, Bumper,” Gabriel says softly, his voice low with that familiar warmth that always makes me feel grounded.
I smile weakly, walking over and pressing a kiss to Aura’s soft head. “Hey, babe. You two okay?”
Gabriel looks at me with those eyes of his—so full of everything I need at this moment—and pulls me closer. His hand cups the back of my neck, his fingers threading through my hair, and I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
“We’re good,” he says quietly, his lips brushing against my temple. “You okay?”
I swallow hard, the tension in my shoulders releasing just a little at his touch. “I don’t know,” I admit, the words slipping out as a confession. “I just…I don’t know if I can do this.”
His voice is firm but gentle when he speaks again. “You’re not in it alone. You have me, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod, leaning into him, allowing myself a moment of peace in his arms. His presence is all I need right now.
Later that night, after we’ve gotten Aura to sleep, Gabriel and I settle on the couch. I curl up next to him, letting him wrap his arms around me. The house is quiet and peaceful, but my thoughts are anything but.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about what my parents said today,” I murmur, my head resting on his shoulder.
“Yeah?” He asks, his voice soft.
“They’re right,” I say, closing my eyes. “We’ve given her everything she needs. We’ve given her love, stability, and a family. And that matters. I just…I hope the court sees that.”
Gabriel kisses the top of my head, his hand resting on my back. “They will. They have to.”
“I hope so,” I whisper, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I really hope so.”
Ours
GABRIEL
I waketo the sound of soft breathing, the familiar warmth of Millie beside me, her body nestled close against mine. For a moment, I just lie there, listening to her sleep, the rise and fall of her chest, the steady rhythm of her breathing grounding me in a way nothing else can.
But today is different. The reality of what’s about to happen weighs heavily on my chest.
I turn slightly, careful not to wake her, and glance at the clock. It’s early, but my mind is already racing. The custody hearing. The one we’ve been dreading and anticipating for months. Today is the day it all comes to an end.
I gently brush a strand of hair from Millie’s face, and she stirs, shifting just enough to look at me. Her eyes flutter open, and for a split second, I see the confusion there before it melts into recognition.
“Morning,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I reply quietly, reaching out to tuck her closer to me. Her warmth is comforting, but it doesn’t quite calm the churn in my stomach. I can feel the tension radiating off her, too. She’s worried. She’s always worried about my little girl.
Millie shifts again, now awake, and I feel her hand curl in mine. She squeezed gently.
