Chapter 9
The next few years passed in a blur of birthday parties, soccer games, school plays, bedtime stories, and quiet moments of joy.
Jax turned twelve. He was tall, serious, the leader of his siblings, the protector. He loved soccer and science and reading books about space. He told us he wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up. Kael built him a telescope for his birthday, and they spent hours on the porch at night, looking at the stars.
Leo turned eleven. He was our creative, gentle soul. He loved baking and painting and writing stories. He won first place in the school art contest two years in a row. I turned one wall of the playroom into a “canvas wall” where he could paint whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
Milo turned ten. He was our wild, funny, adventurous one. He loved dinosaurs and climbing trees and playing pranks on his brothers and sister. He kept us all laughing, even on the hardest days. He told us he wanted to be a “dinosaur doctor” when he grew up. Kael and I still weren’t sure exactly what that was, but we supported him anyway.
Grace turned four. She was our little princess, our firecracker. She loved pink and sparkles and dancing and bossing her brothers around. She had Kael wrapped around her little finger, and she knew it. She’d look up at him with those big dark eyes, and he’d give her anything she asked for.
Liam turned three. He was our quiet, sweet baby. He loved hugs and books and following his older siblings around everywhere they went. He was the glue that held our crazy family together, always ready with a smile or a cuddle when someone was sad.
Kael and I were happier than ever.
We still had bad days, of course. The kids fought. Work was stressful. We were tired, all the time.
But we faced everything together.
We talked through our problems. We supported each other. We made time for each other, even when it was just ten minutes at the end of the day, sitting on the porch, drinking coffee, holding hands, watching our kids play.
We never took each other for granted.
We knew how close we’d come to losing all of this.
Elara was still in prison. She’d tried to appeal her sentence a few times, but every appeal was denied. She’d never hurt us again.
We’d built a life that was safe, that was happy, that was ours.
And then, one day, we got a letter in the mail.
It was from Ethan’s mom, Sarah.
Wait—no, Ethan was from the other story. This was our story. Our kids were Jax, Leo, Milo, Grace, Liam.
Right.
The letter was from a young woman named Clara, Liam’s birth mother.
We’d stayed in touch with her over the years, sending her photos and updates about Liam, as she’d asked. She’d wanted to know he was happy, that he was loved.
Her letter said she was in town for a few days, and she wanted to meet Liam. If we were comfortable with it.
Kael and I talked about it for a long time.
We talked to Liam, too, in simple terms he could understand. We told him his birth mom loved him very much, that she’d given him to us because she wanted him to have a good life, and that she wanted to meet him now.
Liam thought about it, then nodded. “Okay. I want to meet her.”
We met Clara at a park, on a sunny Saturday afternoon.
She was young, nervous, holding a small stuffed bear in her hands.
When she saw Liam, her eyes filled with tears.
Liam walked over to her, shy at first, then held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Liam.”
Clara knelt down, smiling through her tears. “Hi, Liam. I’m Clara. It’s so nice to meet you.”
They talked for an hour. Clara asked him about his favorite toys, his favorite foods, his brothers and sister. Liam told her all about his family, about his dinosaur doctor dream, about how his dad let him climb trees even when Mom said no.
Kael and I sat on a bench nearby, watching, our hands clasped tight.
When it was time to leave, Clara hugged Liam gently.
“I’m so happy you’re happy,” she whispered to him.
Liam hugged her back. “You can come visit anytime. We have lots of cookies at our house.”
Clara laughed, wiping her eyes. “I’d like that.”
She stood up and looked at us.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice sincere. “Thank you for loving him. For giving him such a wonderful life.”
I smiled at her. “We’re the lucky ones. He’s the best thing that ever happened to us.”
We drove home that afternoon, Liam chattering the whole way about how nice Clara was, about how he wanted her to come over for cookies soon.
Kael looked at me from the driver’s seat, a soft smile on his face.
“We really did good, didn’t we?” he said.
I looked back at our five kids in the backseat, all of them talking and laughing and fighting over who got the last fruit snack.
“Yeah,” I said. “We really did.”
That night, after all the kids were asleep, Kael and I sat on the porch again.
The sky was full of stars. The air was warm and sweet with the smell of jasmine from the bush by the porch.
“I love you,” Kael said, squeezing my hand.
“I love you too,” I said.
We sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s company, enjoying the quiet, enjoying the life we’d built.
I thought back to that first-class flight, all those years ago.
To the arrogant man sitting next to me, sneering at the life he thought I’d wasted.
To the secret I’d carried, three little boys who would soon change everything.
To the pain, the fear, the lies, the heartbreak.
And then I thought of now.
Of our five beautiful, happy kids.
Of the man sitting next to me, the love of my life, who’d fought so hard to earn back my trust, to build this family with me.
Of the safety, the love, the joy that surrounded us every single day.
We’d come so far.
May you like
We’d overcome so much.
And we had a lifetime of happiness ahead of us.
