Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Adam
Ani blinked. She stared wide-eyed at me, in that way that someone looks at you when they don’t comprehend a single word you’ve said. “You want to marry me?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
My stomach churned sickly. This was definitely not how I envisioned asking anyone to marry me.
But I’d been backed against a wall, and I could not allow Ani to lose Rosie.
I rubbed my neck, getting up the courage to look Ani in the eye.
“Yes.” My voice sounded deadly calm and serious—not excited or jubilant.
I cleared my throat and tried for better. “I’m committed to both of you.”
Ani suddenly began to cry. I mean, big, giant sobs.
At first, I didn’t understand what was going on until I saw that she really was overwhelmed.
I got it—the possibility of losing the baby was overwhelming me too.
She ran over and threw her arms around me, clinging on so tightly that I had trouble taking a breath. “I love you!”
My heart sank as she kept sobbing. She was not acting. I held her, but I couldn’t think. My life had been a whirlwind these past few months. I’d become a completely different person because of her, for the better, but this…
So far, I’d been riding the wave of each day, showing up, learning, cruising along. But what I’d just done…this was a blind leap off a cliff the height of Everest, and I was free-falling without a safety net.
Help.
My heart was pounding so loudly and fast that I felt faint, and a trickle of sweat slowly snaked its way down my back.
In the moment, I’d gone overboard. Went into savior mode.
Said anything to get Ani what she wanted most, the ability to mother Rosalie, and Rosalie the chance to have the mother who loved her unconditionally.
Which I knew with all my heart that both of them completely deserved.
But what did I want? From day one, I’d been swept up onto this wild rollercoaster ride that was Ani.. But I hadn’t even said I love you yet. All throughout these extraordinary circumstances, I’d shown up for everything, day or night, and had loved every minute. But was I ready for marriage? Now?
My skin felt clammy, and my throat became so dry that it felt clogged with a bunch of straw.
Ani pulled back and searched my eyes. “You look a little pale. Are you okay?”
“Of course.” I was aware that our friendly caseworker was witnessing all of this. I tried to talk myself down, think positively.
I’d just been getting my bearings. I’d come a long way, but I wasn’t ready. But what choice did I have?
I’d sat there while Ms. Nelson was grilling Ani and googled statistics in our state that seemed to favor married couples over single people for adoptions.
It was apparent that this woman was disapproving and hard-core, and I could tell that she wasn’t thrilled with any of Ani’s answers.
It was almost like she’d wanted her—us—to trip up.
I turned to Ms. Nelson, who was still sitting there with a sour look on her face, no doubt because of our PDA.
I kept my arm around Ani and said as confidently as I could muster, “Ms. Nelson, sometimes extraordinary circumstances require extraordinary measures. I adore this woman and this baby. Together, we are committed to giving her a great life.” I paused.
“Also, I want you to know I’m hiring a personal lawyer to look over all your agency’s paperwork to make certain we’re being fairly represented.
We wouldn’t want any mistruths or exaggerations now, would we? ”
Ms. Nelson, possibly flustered by this new turn of events, quickly gathered all her paperwork and shut her big, horrible binder. “I believe we’re done here. Congratulations on your engagement.”
As soon as the door shut behind her, I backed up to the sofa and sat. I tried to take a couple of deep breaths without looking like I was doing that, which probably only made me seem weird. Ani was examining me now, in that assessing doctor way. And I feared that she was smelling a rat.
She sat down next to me and grabbed my wrist. “Your pulse is pounding. Your skin is that dull, yucky color of the walls in your house. Either you’re having a heart attack, or you’re scared out of your wits. Which is it?”
She knew me. Inside and out. Sometimes, that was the best thing. But now it was the worst.
I managed a smile. “That was…that was one tough interview.” I tried not to reach up to wipe the sweat accumulating on my brow.
That seemed to pacify her. She nodded, sat down next to me, and took my hands in hers. They were warm and soft and fit so well, interwoven with mine. That calmed me a little. Reminded me of how great we were together.
“Adam, I was so frightened. I thought I’d lost Rosie.”
“I would never let that happen.” There. That sounded like me. Of that I was one hundred percent certain. If only I could feel that way about everything else.
Maybe Ani knew that what I’d done was to save the interview. Maybe I wouldn’t even have to explain further.
She searched my eyes for a long time, as if reassuring herself that I’d been sincere. “I love you,” she said again.
Okay, maybe she’d taken that proposal at face value. “Me too,” I managed, holding her as she rested her head on my chest. I had to force myself to relax my muscles, to not appear as rigid as a piece of steel.
Ani lifted her head and gazed solemnly into my eyes.
“Adam, I’ve never felt as comfortable with anyone as I am with you.
I know that these past few months have been a whirlwind, but I know you’re the one.
” She pressed her hands to her chest. “I know it with my whole heart. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done. ”
Of course we made love. I kept telling myself that all this was for the best, that I would’ve never forgiven myself for not doing everything I could in that moment.
But I was rattled. In bed afterward, Ani clung to my side while I held her in the most comforting way I could.
Yet in the darkness, I stared up at the ceiling, wondering, What the hell have I done?
Ani
The next morning was Saturday, and I awakened to the smell of fresh coffee and also to a fresh panic attack.
I’d slept terribly, having nightmares of a comically dressed Ms. Nelson with smeared red lipstick snatching Rosie away and cackling like the witch when she stole Toto and stuffed him into her bike basket.
My nightmares had brought clarity, making me realize that I’d gotten desperate during that interview, willing to grasp at anything to get things back on track.
But the straw I grasped at came at an enormous price—I knew that now. And I didn’t know what to do.
The previous night, Adam was quiet and stiff and out of his usual jokes, the biggest indicator that something wasn’t right. He’d seemed preoccupied during our lovemaking and soon rolled over and went straight to sleep, also troubling.
I grabbed a cup and said hi. He already had Rosie up and changed. She was sitting with him in the recliner, their favorite chair, chugging her morning bottle, her little hand rubbing back and forth over his as I kissed her on the head and took in her sweet baby smell.
She loved him. He loved her.
It all seemed perfect. But I knew in my heart that it wasn’t.
I’d always been amazed that Adam seemed to sense when something was wrong with me without me saying a thing.
Apparently, I could do the same, because I was definitely feeling major unsettling vibes radiating off of him in every direction, despite his extra calm demeanor and his tightly controlled smile.
“Hey, I—” Are we okay? Can we talk?
“Hey, watch this,” he said at the same time, effectively cutting off my panicked train of thought. “Rosie learned a new trick.”
“Okay, Rosebud.” He set down her bottle, got up, and transferred her to a blanket he had spread out on the carpet. “Let’s show Mommy what we learned.”
Mommy.
Stab my heart. I actually clutched my chest. Mother was a privilege, an honor. One that I wasn’t sure I would ever fully achieve. I looked at this big man sitting on the floor with this smiley baby, and I saw how fleeting life could be. How precious. How lucky. How fragile.
I loved him, plain and simple.
I cleared my throat. “Hey, I’m meeting Sam and Mia for coffee this morning,” I said. I needed some clarity. I needed my friends to help talk me down from this crisis. I needed to get away from here and think.
He raised his brows. “Oh, okay. Well, watch this.” Rosie was on her back, kicking up a storm as he held up her favorite cow rattle, the one with the gross ear from her sucking on it all the time. Of course, she immediately grabbed for it and brought it straight to her mouth.
But then Adam shook it, made it dance, voice-overed a few mooooos, and placed it down on the ground out of her reach. “Go get it, Rosebud.”
“She can’t,” I said.
He shot me a mischievous grin. “Oh, yes, she can.”
For a moment, everything seemed to return to that fun, light, easy way we had, where we marveled at every little thing.
Rosie lay there, kicking, smiling at Adam. He smiled back, then glanced in my direction, a crease of worry between his brows. “Before you go, I have to ask you something. What kind of engagement ring would you like?”
I sucked in a breath of surprise. And suddenly got choked up—with an aching sadness. I scolded myself—after all, Adam had sacrificed everything, himself, namely, to ensure that I got Rosie.
But he’d just asked me about an engagement ring in between making silly faces at the baby while I had one foot out the door as if he were asking What kind of milk should I pick up at the store, almond or 1%? Everything was really…off kilter.
“My grandma left me an old-fashioned cut diamond,” I said. “I thought it might be nice to make a ring from that someday.” I thought more about that and added, “But don’t rush, okay? I-I think we should let all this settle a bit.”