Her eyes sparkle. “Not to him.”
I groan, shaking my head. “How? I don’t know how he didn’t see it.”
“Maybe he had it in his head that you were like a sister to him,” she says with a playful shrug.
The thought makes me grimace, my stomach flipping at the idea. “I never looked at him like a brother.”
Amber laughs and nudges my shoulder. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. But it’s different now.”
“I’ve always liked him,” I admit.
Her hand covers mine, giving me a gentle squeeze. “I love that your story is unconventional. It reminds me of my own journey.”
They tried for years to have kids, doctor after doctor, test after test, hoping something would work. But nothing did. Eventually, they applied to be foster parents.
I feel so lucky they chose me. They show up for me, every day, in all the little ways that matter. They didn’t just make room in their home. They made room in their lives and in their hearts.
I pause, my chest tightening. “I’m sorry you couldn’t have kids.”
Amber smiles. “I’m not.”
I frown. “You’re not?”
She shakes her head. “No, because if I had, I wouldn’t have gotten you.”
My chest aches with emotion. Her eyes glisten, and my own vision blurs as tears prick at the edges.
“I’m the one who’s grateful,” I choke out. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me that you... chose me.”
Her smile deepens as she takes her hands from mine but shuffles closer. “I do understand. Watching you work so hard, and now, seeing you in love and chasing your dreams… It’s everything to us.”
Blinking back the tears threatening to spill over, I swallow hard. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she says.
I glance down at the box in front of us, gathering the courage to say the words that have been on my mind lately. I just don’t want to let her down. “I don’t think I want kids.”
The silence stretches between us. I feel my heartbeat in my throat as I slowly lift my eyes to hers.
“Then don’t have them,” she says simply.
“But what if Oliver wants them?” The worry slips out before I can stop it. We haven’t had that conversation yet. He’s been busy with the gallery, and I’ve been finalizing the house.
“What if he doesn’t?”
“I don’t know…” I tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me.
Amber touches my arms and looks straight into my eyes. “This is your life. Talk to him. Tell him what you told me and see what he says.”
I nod, her advice sinking in.
“Let’s finish this,” she says, moving her hands back to the wood. Both of us focus back on the console. We work in silence for a bit before Wren comes in to help us finish assembling the piece.
The door swings open. My heart lifts as Oliver steps inside, his sexy and powerful presence commanding attention. Especially in his light gray work suit.
He moves with ease, his smile lighting up the room as he greets Amber with a shake of her hand. “Hi, Amber.”
Then he turns to Wren, shaking his hand too. “Wren.”
