Chapter Maevyn
Four Years Later
“I need to change my shirt.” I rip the T-shirt over my head, throwing it in the general vicinity of the laundry hamper as I search for something more modest.
“You looked fine, baby.”
“I don’t want to intimidate them.” My hands shake as I shuffle through my coat hangers. “Oh, maybe a dress.”
“Mae.” West places his hands on my shoulder, rubbing up and down. “They won’t care what you’re wearing.”
I take a deep breath, then lean back against Westley’s chest.
For two years, West and I talked about what we wanted for our future.
Apart from wanting to travel every now and then, and the studio doing well, the main thing we both really wanted was a family.
After West and I got married, we started the process of adopting.
We had to wait a year before we were even eligible to apply, then it took another eighteen months for us to go through the screening process and training they make you do before you’re added to the register.
Five days ago, our social worker called with an emergency case, asking if we were willing to take in siblings.
Jett and Faye had already been in foster care for two years after being removed from their mother’s care due to safety concerns.
When West and I were interviewed as part of our eligibility, I shared my entire story and the effects drug abuse had on my upbringing.
When we found out these two had a similar experience, I knew they were meant for us. And now, they’ll be here any minute.
“Mum! Dad! The car’s here!” Aurora shouts up the stairs.
“Oh fuck,” I murmur, swallowing down bile. I just want them to feel safe.
West steps around me, pulling a green flannel shirt off a coat hanger, and proceeds to dress me. He may need to carry me downstairs with the way my whole body trembles.
“It’s okay, baby,” Westley says gently as he buttons my shirt. “Remember, they’re probably going to be feeling very overwhelmed. They haven’t had a lot of time to process the adoption. Let’s just let them lead, okay?”
“Okay.” I nod. Actually, I think that’s still the shaking.
The doorbell rings, and I whimper. West cups my cheeks, placing a chaste kiss against my lips. “Come on. Let’s not make them wait.”
West does, in fact, need to carry me down the stairs. Aurora’s already waiting at the door for us.
“Why does Mum look like she did right before you went cage diving with sharks?”
West raises his eyebrows at me, one hand poised on the doorknob. “Hear that? You look like you’re about to dive into shark-infested waters.”
Aurora wraps her arm around my waist. At seventeen years old, she’s the same height as me, and absolutely gorgeous.
It’s a miracle she’s never brought a boy home.
I’d like to think Westley has provided her with an extremely high bar when it comes to expectations in a partner, and she’s just never met anyone who comes close, but she says she isn’t interested in dating in high school.
She starts university in four months. God help me.
Westley pulls the door open. Our case worker, Rebecca, stands to one side with her usual customer service smile, a clipboard in hand, and two young kids behind her.
The nerves dissipate as I take in their faces.
Hesitant and unsure, but I can see the way they lead with courage.
My protective instincts surge through me, eradicating the last of my lingering jitters.
I’m quite sure the files we were given in advance claimed Jett was thirteen, but he seems much taller for his age. Light brown hair falls over his eyes; ashy brown, with a ring of deep blue. So guarded, but kind.
Faye looks similar to Aurora at eleven. Long hair, the same colour as her brother’s, pulled back in a high ponytail. She grips the straps of her backpack, and there’s a collection of beaded bracelets on her wrists and chipped nail polish—a different colour on every finger.
“Hi, guys,” West says calmly. “Please, come in.”
Rebecca leads the way, letting Jett and Faye follow at their own speed. I can’t take my eyes off them as they step into our home and survey the space, and all I hope is that they feel a sense of safety and belonging.
Our walls are decorated with photos. Endless selfies from our travels, Sunday night waffles, movie nights, any moment that brought us laughter, joy, and adventure. The wall leading into the kitchen has a corkboard displaying every fortune cookie message we’ve ever opened. It’s a home full of love.
“Jett. Faye. This is Westley, Maevyn, and their daughter, Aurora.”
West’s fingers weave through mine. “We’re so happy to have you here.”
“Anything you need,” I say, looking at these kids and feeling like I’m seeing the same scared, lost version of myself at their age, and remembering everything I had hoped for, too. “Just let us know. You’re not alone anymore. You’re safe here.”