"The judge is going to see a family that belongs together. A woman who's devoted her life to caring for her nephew, a man who would die before letting anything happen to them, and ababy who's surrounded by more love and protection than most kids get in a lifetime."
He makes it sound so simple. So certain. Like the outcome is already decided, and all we have to do is show up.
"I'm just scared," I whisper.
"I know." His voice gentles. "But Lisa, you're not in this alone anymore. You don't have to carry all the worry, all the responsibility. That's what marriage means. That's what being a family means."
"I've never been good at letting other people help."
"I've noticed." There's the hint of a smile in his voice now. "Good thing I'm patient."
I lean into his touch, let myself absorb some of his certainty. It would be so easy to let Sawyer carry all of this, to trust that his confidence and protection are enough to keep us safe.
But the practical part of my brain, the part that's been taking care of myself since I was eighteen, won't let me relax completely.
"We should probably get up," I say instead of voicing the fears still circling in my head. "Tommy will be awake soon, and I want to finish unpacking his things."
Sawyer studies my face for another moment, like he knows I'm deflecting but doesn't want to push. "Okay. But Lisa, this conversation isn't over."
"I know."
He leans down to kiss me again, softer this time but no less claiming. "You're mine, Lisa. Remember that when your brain starts spinning worst-case scenarios."
"I'll try."
Twenty minutes later, I'm in the kitchen making coffee while Sawyer showers, trying to focus on the ordinary tasks of morning instead of the anxiety that's still gnawing at my stomach. The coffee maker is different from the one at Emma'sapartment, and it takes me three tries to figure out the right ratio of grounds to water.
Everything here is different. Bigger, more masculine, designed for a man who lives alone. I keep opening cabinets looking for things that aren't there, reaching for light switches that are in the wrong places.
It doesn't feel like home yet. It feels like I'm playing house in someone else's life.
The thought makes me feel guilty immediately. Sawyer has been nothing but welcoming, nothing but generous. He's turned his entire life upside down to help me, and here I am criticizing his kitchen layout.
Tommy's cry echoes from the nursery, saving me from my spiral of self-doubt. I abandon the coffee and hurry down the hallway, pushing open the door to find him standing in his crib, hands gripping the rails, looking around the unfamiliar room with wide eyes.
"Hey, baby boy." I lift him out, settle him against my hip. "Good morning. How did you sleep in your new room?"
He babbles something that might be an answer, then leans back to study my face with those serious dark eyes that remind me so much of Emma.
"I know, sweetheart. Everything's different, isn't it? New house, new room, new..." I pause, not sure how to explain the concept of a stepfather to a baby. "New family."
The word feels strange on my tongue. Family. For so long, it was just me and Emma, and then just me and Tommy. Now suddenly we're part of something bigger, something that includes brothers and sisters-in-law and Sunday dinners and the kind of support system I've never had before.
It should feel wonderful. It does feel wonderful, when I let myself think about it.
So why can't I shake the feeling that it's all going to disappear?
"There you are." Sawyer appears in the doorway, hair still damp from his shower, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt that makes his eyes look impossibly blue. "How's our boy this morning?"
Our boy.The casual possessiveness in the words makes something warm unfurl in my chest, even as it terrifies me.
"He's good. Just getting used to the new surroundings." I bounce Tommy gently, and he reaches toward Sawyer with grabby hands.
Sawyer steps forward without hesitation, taking Tommy from me like he's been doing it for months instead of days. The easy confidence with which he handles my nephew, and the way Tommy immediately settles against his chest, makes my throat tight with emotion.
"What do you think, buddy? You like your new room?" Sawyer walks Tommy over to the window, pointing out at the mountains visible in the distance. "See those peaks? That's where your mama and I used to go hiking when we were kids. Someday I'll take you up there, show you the best fishing spots."
The casual way he talks about the future, about years of shared memories still to be made, should comfort me. Instead, it makes the anxiety spike again.
