CHAPTER 99
harley
MAV: If you need anything, I’m right here.
I appreciate it.
You’ll be the first to know how it goes.
MAV: Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere, Harley.
MAV: Forever and a day, princess.
Was it a little pathetic to be nervous? Maybe.
After all, it was just a conversation with a six-year-old.
My six-year-old. But I wanted this conversation to go well.
I needed it to because I honestly didn’t know how to navigate the aftermath if it didn’t.
My anxiety was so bad that I took my as-needed anxiety medication before cooking breakfast. And I was buttering her up—softening the blow—by making her favorite breakfast.
Aria was none the wiser as she sat on a stool at the kitchen island, humming happily while she colored and updated me on the week’s gossip with her class. The not-so-subtle inclusion of Carson’s mom wasn’t lost on me.
With a pile of mini confetti pancakes between us, along with a bowl of whipped cream, we sat at the table. I watched her happily dive in while I ran through everything once more. This conversation was a big deal—not just for me, but also for her.
“I would like to talk to you about something,” I began. Those big blue eyes snapped up to meet my gaze, and she gave me a cheeky smile, her mouth full of pancake. I took that as a sign to keep going. “It’s not a bad thing, but it is a new thing for us.”
“Okay.” She scrutinized me, like she wasn’t sure I was telling the truth.
“So, you know how you tried to set me up with Carson’s mom?” I asked, and she nodded. “And Lily’s mom before that? And Bodhi’s mom before that?”
She hadn’t tried often, but we had a small history of her pushing that topic a little bit.
“Are you and Carson’s mom getting married?” Her eyes lit up, and my chest tightened.
“No, little love, I’m not marrying Carson’s mom.”
“Oh. You don’t like her?”
“Not enough to marry her.”
“Oh,” she whispered, her expression falling.
“I’m sorry that you’re disappointed,” I continued, “but there is someone that I care about and that I like spending time with.”
“Oh.” I could see the wheels turning in her head as she processed that piece of information.
I gave her space to work it out and waited for her next question because there would be more.
She always had questions, which wasn’t a problem.
I wanted her to stay curious. I wanted her to keep asking questions. “Can I meet her?”
“You can, and you have already, but this person isn’t a her,” I said. Her brows came together tightly, and her nose scrunched up in her confusion.
“Is it a boy?”
“Do you remember Maverick?” I knew she did—she asked often about helping him again—but I wanted to make sure she remembered that part too.
“He taught me how to use a drill,” Aria replied with a happy little giggle. And then I watched it click into place for her. That serious expression slid right back into place, but there was something under it that I couldn’t quite put a name to. “Is he the person?”
I nodded.
“But he’s a boy!” she exclaimed, loud and frustrated. “You can’t marry a boy! Because a boy can’t be my new mommy!”
I rested my chin in my hand as I stared at her, debating the best way to handle this. I knew it had more to do with Vivienne than Maverick.
“Will you tell me what your worries are about not having a mommy?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet and calm. She could be as loud and emotional as she wanted, but I wouldn’t match it and make it worse.
“Everyone has a mommy!” She pushed her food, and her head dropped into her arms, hiding her face. “And my mommy doesn’t want me.”
Reaching over, I brushed her hair back and tried to peek at her, but she pulled away. I withdrew my hand and sat back. I genuinely hated this.
“That’s not about you, little love.”
“So?”
“It’s not a reflection of you, Aria. It doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. It doesn’t mean you weren’t wanted. I wanted you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“But Ashleigh-Lynn said real families only have a mommy and daddy,” she whispered.
I frowned. Ashleigh-Lynn was a girl from Aria’s private school.
They’d been in the same class since they were three, and suddenly the timeline for these occasional questions made sense.
“And that because I only have you, we’re not a real family, and that you don’t count, and then she laughed at me because my mommy didn’t want me. ”
I drew in a deep breath to steady the rise of anger. I hated kids sometimes. For the most part, she didn’t deal with how mean kids were, but that still didn’t stop some of them. Some kids learned how to be bullies from their parents.
“Well, Ashleigh-Lynn can go fuck herself,” I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop myself.
A little giggle bubbled out of her as I scrambled to recover.
“That was not appropriate. I’m sorry. It’s not her fault for thinking like that.
It’s what her parents taught her. I shouldn’t have said that. ”
“It’s still funny,” Aria said.
“Look,” I began with a sigh. “Families aren’t about image. They’re about love. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and orientations. You, me, and Holly are a family. And I like to think we’re a happy family.”
“We are.”
“Maverick wouldn’t change that,” I assured her. “Our family would just get bigger because he wouldn’t just become a part of our family. We’d also become a part of his. That’s a lot more people to love you if you let them.”
“And you?”
“And me.” Maybe. If Millie ever stopped hating me. “Those are people who choose you. People who want you in their lives.”
“Promise?” She rested her chin on her forearms, staring at me. I brushed the curls away from her face and tucked them behind her ear. “Like, really promise?”
“I promise,” I said. “This is a good thing, I promise.”
A tiny nudge of anxiety flared up as I worried about what would happen if I couldn’t keep that promise. What if this didn’t work with Maverick? It hadn’t in the past. As much as I wanted to say it would now, what if it didn’t?
“This will be a good thing,” I repeated, my voice barely audible. Aria smiled at me, trusting the words coming out of my mouth, and that had to be enough.