Drew

I look around my living room later that morning, heat radiating in my chest, a permanent smile plastered on my face. Alyssa and Charlotte build something with their Legos as a movie of their choosing plays on TV. Molly called Noah and told him there had been a change of plans. Now, instead of getting ready for Brooklyn’s wedding, we’re all at my house, Uncle Leo included, celebrating something else…our family.

As the girls put their finishing touches on the lopsided tower they’ve constructed, the doorbell rings. Brooklyn shoots her wide eyes to mine, concern filling them. She’s been edgy all morning, worried the doorbell would ring and either Mrs. Bradford or her father would be here to talk to her. While I support her desire to never see Wes’ mom again, especially after she shared with me the choice words she had for her last night, I hate being the reason she’s avoiding her father. All I can do is make sure she eventually clears the air between them.

I lean toward her, kissing her cheek. “I’ll go take care of it.” I squeeze her leg when she offers me a relieved smile.

“Thank you.”

I hold her gaze for a moment longer, then get up, heading toward the entryway. I open the door, preparing myself to deal with an irate Mrs. Bradford or an apologetic Mr. Tanner, taken by surprise when someone else stands on my porch.

“Carla,” I hiss, stepping outside, closing the door behind me to keep that barrier between her and my girls, especially now that I know Skylar encouraged her to try to take them from me. “What the hell are you doing here?” I should have known something like this would happen. It’s the story of my life. Just when everything’s going great, something happens to bring me down from my high.

“I’m sorry for barging in on you like this. I just… I need to talk to you.”

I cross my arms. “Don’t you have a lawyer for that?”

She pulls her lip between her teeth, nodding in what seems to be resignation. “I deserve that.” There’s a slight quiver in her chin as she wipes beneath one of her eyes. Then her voice turns urgent, pleading. “You have to understand where I’m coming from here, Andrew—”

“Oh, I understand. I understand you’re trying to take my kids from me when I’ve done nothing but raise them, care for them, love them…” My voice trails off. I take a moment to collect myself, my despair turning to rage. “You’ve done nothing but turn my entire world upside down.” My lip curling, I lean into her. “You had the audacity to beg me to come back to you when you were pregnant. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping our family together. Little did I know, you were just tricking me into raising someone else’s child!”

“And you should hate me for that,” she chokes out, tears falling down her cheeks. In all our years together, I don’t think I saw her cry once. “I hate myself for that. I can’t take back what I did to you all those years ago.” She pauses, inhaling a long breath. “But I can make it right going forward.”

“Make it right? You think asking for custody modification is making it right?” I whisper-shout, doing my best to keep my voice down so my girls don’t overhear and come running to see who I’m talking to. “You think trying to take Charlotte from me altogether is making it right?”

“No,” she shoots back, her eyes widening. “I’m here to make amends for that, too. To fix my momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Did you know who Skylar was?” I demand, the vein in my neck twitching. “Is that why you accepted her help? Figured the two of you could join forces?”

“Andrew, please.” She clasps her hands together, imploring me to listen. “When she approached me, I had no idea who she was. I was on my lunch break the day after I went to see you. I was looking up family law attorneys on my laptop to see what I could do to have a little time with them when a woman walked up and claimed her step-brother was one of the best family law attorneys in the state. She was so kind and compassionate, I soon found myself sharing the whole story with her, even the part about Charlotte not being yours. When I finished, she hugged me, reassuring me that everything would be okay, that she’d help me get visitation with them. She even agreed to pay all my legal fees.”

“And you didn’t think that was a giant red flag?”

Her lips part as her dark eyes search mine. I’m on the brink of laying into her even more, stopping when I see something I never thought I would. Regret. Remorse. Sorrow.

“Of course I did,” she exclaims, her hands balling into fists. “But I was hurting after you refused to even consider my proposition, refused to allow me anywhere near those girls. I am not the same woman I was when we knew each other, but you were too stubborn to acknowledge that people change.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head, her shoulders slumping. “It’s no excuse. In retrospect I wish I’d taken a step back to analyze the situation before jumping into petitioning for custody, knowing full well what it would to do you. I just wanted to spend time with those girls. That’s all. I had no idea my lawyer would bring up what I told him about Chase and Charlotte, that he would make it appear like I wanted to take her from you. After I learned that, I demanded he retract the motion, but he claimed it was too late. It was at this point I told my husband everything.”

“He didn’t know?” I furrow my brow, blinking. How could she be married to someone and keep something as big as this from him?

“He was aware of you and the girls. I just hadn’t told him I filed for custody.”

“What prompted the change of heart?”

“I saw the Celtics game a few weeks ago, the one you attended.” I swallow hard at the mention of the game that almost cost me everything. “People still know you, especially considering your name’s been in the news recently regarding the possibility of coaching for the Bruins. Then I saw Skylar. I didn’t know who she was, other than being the woman who offered to help me. When I saw her approach you, I’d never felt so sick in my entire life.” She covers her heart with her hand, her complexion paling, her voice cracking.

“That’s when I realized it was too good to be true. I came clean to my husband, and the following day, he helped me hire a new lawyer.”

“So you can continue seeking custody?” I bark out.

She vehemently shakes her head. “No. I hired someone new to help make it all right. Not just what I’ve put you through this past month, but the past seven years.” She reaches into her oversized purse and hands me a large envelope.

“What is this?” I glare, my lip turning up in a sneer. “The last time someone showed up at my door and handed me an envelope—”

“Please, Andrew. Just open it. Of course, someone will show up at your door Monday morning to deliver the official copy. I just…” She pauses, tilting her head to the sky. A breeze picks up, her dark hair blowing in her face, a peacefulness about her. When she returns her eyes to mine, she swallows hard. “As difficult as it was for me to come here, I didn’t want you to go another second worrying about what the future holds for you and your girls.” She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her tears that are now falling relentlessly. Apart from the deep, dark eyes, this woman bears absolutely no resemblance to the woman I married, in temperament or appearance.

Studying her with guarded skepticism, I shift my gaze downward, withdrawing a set of papers from the envelope. This scenario is too reminiscent of that day back in May when I was served with her request for custody modification. This time, the stack of papers stapled together is much thinner, containing only two pieces. At the top is the caption “Withdrawal of Custody Modification Petition Without Prejudice”.

I snap my head up, inhaling sharply, my heart thumping in my chest. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

“I’m not going to fight you for them. I hope you’ll eventually find it in your heart to forgive me for putting you through this and will let me be a part of their lives. I understand if you can’t do that right now, but I hope you will someday.”

I shake my head, continuing to read the words on the page, a huge weight lifted off me. But there’s still the problem of Charlotte.

“What about—”

Sensing my next question, she interrupts. “My lawyer seems to think this will be sufficient.” She hands me a second envelope.

With shaky hands, I unclasp it, pulling out several more sheets of paper. My eyes gloss over the words. This time, I’m even more confused as I read a statement by Chase Gardner relinquishing his parental rights. Then I sift through the rest of the papers. One caption reads “Affidavit in Support of Consent to Adopt”.

“My lawyer’s dealt with adoption cases before,” Carla explains, noticing my furrowed brow. “Most of them aren’t as complicated as this one, but in order for you to adopt Charlotte, all this state requires is for her biological father to relinquish his parental rights and for the biological mother to consent to the adoption. Normally, it occurs in the case of a step-parent adoption, but there’s no reason for Charlotte not to be yours officially. You just have to file the petition.”

I return my eyes to hers, my words caught in my throat. Despite everything she put me through, this gift is more than I ever thought her capable of. It demonstrates she’s not the same woman I married, the same woman who ran out on my girls and me, the same woman who had no regard for us.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tightly, all the tension leaving my body. “Thank you,” I barely manage to say. “Thank you so much, Carla.” I keep her enclosed in my embrace, my heart full for the first time since I received her original request for custody. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to explain exactly how much her doing all of this to make amends means to me. She could have stopped at retracting her petition for custody. But this, giving me everything I need to make Charlotte mine makes me view Carla in a completely different light.

“I’m so sorry for what I did,” she laments into my chest. “I’ve been so selfish. I don’t deserve your compassion or forgiveness. I just hope I can make it up to you.”

I pull away, smiling as I wave the envelopes in my hand. “This is a pretty good start.” I push out a laugh, cutting through the thick tension.

“I hope so.” She steps back, swiping at her tears. “I’ll let you get back to your day. I just wanted to give these to you.” She holds my gaze for another moment, then turns toward her car, her posture slumped. “Just keep me posted on how they’re doing, if you can.” She gives me a tight smile as she opens the door.

“Carla, wait!”

She meets my eyes, her brow lifted. “Yes?”

I hesitate, chewing on my bottom lip. I never thought I’d be able to stand being in this woman’s presence without growing wild with rage at how much she hurt me and those little girls. I never thought I’d ever be able to forgive her. Just like I want Brooklyn to forgive her father for what he did, I need to do the same here.

“Do you want to come in? Spend a little time with them?”

She chokes out a sob, her hand going to her mouth to cover her quivering chin. “Are you sure?” She can’t hide her disbelief at this turn of events. I almost can’t, either.

I nod, smiling warmly. “A wise woman once told me that forgiveness is a difficult thing, but so is living with regret.”

She laughs as she dabs at her tears. “That sounds like something Gigi would say.”

“I don’t want to live with any more regret.” My tone becomes serious. “Just give me a minute to talk to them first. Okay?”

“Of course,” she answers quickly. “I’ll wait out here. If it’s too much, too soon, I understand. I’m just thankful you’re willing to do this. You have no idea what it means.”

I nod, retreating up the front porch, pausing as I’m about to open the door. “Actually, I do.”