So that really was it. I’ve beaten myself up for being angry all these years, wondering if Emily left because she was depressed, needed help, something—anything—other than just…not wanting the responsibility of a kid.
“I don’t think I have anything to say to that, Emily.”
She looks away, a muscle working in her jaw. “I know what I did. I know you’ll never forgive me for it.”
“This isn’t about forgiveness.” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “This is about Isla and what’s best for her.”
“I’m still her mother.”
“You’re her biological mother,” I correct, fighting to keep my voice steady. “There’s a difference.”
She swallows, then meets my gaze again. “I’ve had five years to live with my choice and…the consequences. I wasn’t ready back then. I couldn’t do it, and I still truly believe Isla was better off. But now…” Her eyes soften, almost painfully. “I’ve changed. I won’t lie, though. There will be no other children in my future, but I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try to know the one I do have.”
I’m…shocked. It’s not some heroic story. It’s just her, admitting the truth of who she was and who she is now. Five years of heartache and trying to be both parents, and it all comes down to this. Emily wasn’t ready.
But Isla was still here. Needing someone. Needing everything.
I run a hand over my face, trying to process her words. “What exactly are you hoping for here?”
She shrugs, jerking her shoulders almost too quickly. “I don’t know. Maybe just to see her sometimes. Get to know her a little. That doesn’t seem so unreasonable.”
Ah. The Emily I knew—the one who’d always been so sure of herself, so untouchable—hasn’t fully disappeared. This version of her might be a bit more subtle, but there’s still a stubborn edge, a sense that she’s used to getting what she wants.
“I’m not asking to take her from you,” she continues, her voice tight. “I know you’re the only parent she knows. I’m not trying to…step on your toes.”
She shifts in her seat, and I catch the way her eyes dart toward Lucy.
“If you’re serious about this,” I say, snapping her out of her trance, “then show up. Period.”
She flinches again, but she doesn’t back down. “I understand. Maybe I could come by this weekend. For a chance to fix things.”
I want to say no. I want to shut it down right then and there, tell her she’s too late and that Isla doesn’t need her. This isn’t about me, though, as much as I hate this. Isla deserves to know the truth, to see for herself that her mother is willing to try.
“Sunday. You come, and you show me you’re serious. But if you screw this up, Emily…you won’t get another shot.”
I straighten, a knot tightening in my chest, my patience snapping. Enough. I’ve said what I needed to say, and I’m done negotiating.
“I’m serious,” I continue. “If you’re not all in, then don’t waste our time. I never got a judge involved, but I will this time.”
Emily’s eyes widen at my words, and for a split second, there’s a flash of panic. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to throw down that kind of ultimatum.
I don’t feel the need to linger. I stand before she has another chance to say anything else. My mind’s already on Lucy. She’s been watching us, and I can’t leave without checking in on her, even if it’s just for a second.
I walk over to the counter where she’s still working and pretending to focus on wiping down the surface. Her eyes meet mine the moment I get close. There’s a softness there, something that settles me just by looking at it.
I don’t say anything at first, just stand there for a beat and take in the way the light catches the perfect, pouty curve of her lips. Then, I step in close, close enough to smell the sweetness of her perfume, and I don’t hesitate. I lean over, pressing my lips to hers.
She pulls back slightly, her gaze searching mine. “You okay?”
I let out a slow breath, my shoulders sagging as the tight coil inside me unwinds. “I am now.”
The corner of her mouth lifts in response.
“I’ll fill you in tonight,” I mutter, my thumb brushing gently over her cheek.
“Okay,” she says quietly, but I see the understanding there. “I love you. I’ll come by later?”
I let a small smile tug at my lips. “Aye…see you at home. Love you, too.”
