Jeez. Maybe I’m more out of shape than I realized.
Nate shoots up from his chair in a panic. “What’s wrong? Where’s my baby?”
I scowl. “Right here.” I point to myself, though we both know he means Skye.
He peers past me at our equally winded dog. “What did you do to her?”
“Can you please get me some water?” I gasp. “I have news. And she’s fine. If anything, this proves she needs a few extra walks a week.”
“Don’t body-shame my daughter,” he mutters, handing me a bottle of water while filling Skye’s bowl with fresh, cold spring water. God forbid she drinks New York City tap water. “What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
I down half the bottle. “Can you grab your laptop and meet me in the living room?”
He doesn’t question it.
Once he’s seated, laptop open, I pull up Google and type “Healing Horizons” into the search bar.
A few satellite campuses appear, but the main location is in Vermont, not too far from here.
“What is this?” His voice lowers as he reads.
“I met a woman in the park today, and she had just adopted her cousin, who was brought to Healing Horizons.” I swallow back my emotions, pointing at the screen. “He was being abused by his mother. Neglected.”
As I whisper the last part, Nate’s eyes slowly rise to mine, connecting the dots.
My speech, which I practiced repeatedly on the car ride home, goes right out the window; I forget every word, so I come right out and say it.
“I-I would like us to adopt a baby.”
The words hang between us.
To my surprise, he doesn’t react the way I expect; he’s not shocked and doesn’t have an immediate response.
Or maybe he’s stunned into silence.
When he doesn’t speak, I go on telling him about Sloane and Jagger and how eerily familiar the story felt. How I felt it deep in my bones that we’re meant to do the same.
“You don’t want to have a baby of your own?” His gaze flicks briefly to my stomach. “That was always the plan.”
“Because it was all we knew back then.” I take his hand, running my thumb along his skin. “I know?—”
“You know what?” he asks softly.
“I know you’ve been struggling, Nathaniel. You’ve been trying to hide it, but I know you. You opened an old wound, and now I see that it might have been a blessing. I think that letting yourself feel it all again would help you recognize the pain a child is enduring. To comfort them in a way someone else couldn’t.”
He swallows, eyes dropping back to the screen.
“What if it’s a baby?” he asks quietly. “They won’t have the emotional baggage.”
My heart stutters. If he’s asking…
“Then we celebrate,” I say firmly. “Because that baby won’t have to endure what you did. We love them. We protect them. And whether they ever understand it or not, we help end the harm. By adopting a baby, we free up space for the program to adopt another child.” I pause, searching his face. “And Nate, the program is called HealingHorizons. Tell me that isn’t the universe pulling us full circle.”
“Madeline…”
My hand presses to my chest. “I felt it the second Sloane started talking. Like my entire life snapped into focus. I know this isn’t a decision to rush into, but nothing will change how I feel. If you need time, take it. Days. Weeks. Months. And I’ll respect whatever you decide.”
He says nothing, fingers gliding over the keyboard as he reads.
