Chapter 28 #2
I smile and watch the scene unfold, tucking it away in my heart so I can remember it forever.
Elle carefully untangles the ribbon and opens the box. Inside, two necklaces are nestled in soft velvet. Each pendant is delicate and silver, shaped like a heart, with tiny letters etched into the surface.
She lifts one of them, her brow furrowing slightly as she examines the inscription.
“What does this say?” she asks, looking at me.
I smile, leaning in closer to her. “It’s in Irish Gaelic,” I explain. “It says Máthair agus Iníon.”
Elle tilts her head, not quite understanding. “And that means?”
“Mother and Daughter,” I say gently.
Elle looks at the necklace again, her eyes softening. “Hannah, did you pick this out?”
Hannah nods eagerly, her little face lighting up. “Yep! I wanted you and me to have matching necklaces!” She glances down at her own necklace with pride. You're my other mommy, Elle. You take care of me, and I love you.”
Elle looks at Hannah, who is beaming up at her. “I love you, too.” she replies softly.
She lifts the necklace to her chest, her voice thick with emotion. “Hannah, this is… so beautiful. I don’t even have words for how much this means to me.”
Hannah’s eyes sparkle with joy. “I knew you’d like it! Now we’re matching!” she says, holding out her own necklace. “It’s just for us, like our secret.”
I can see Elle blinking back tears as she pulls Hannah into a tight hug. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll always treasure this,” she whispers, kissing the top of Hannah’s head.
I can’t help but smile at the bond between them. It’s clear how much they mean to each other.
Elle looks up at me, her eyes soft with love and gratitude. “This is so special,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”
"It was all Hannah," I say, smiling as I glance at my daughter. "She picked out the same necklaces for her mom, except those are in English."
Elle smiles at Hannah, her eyes shining. “Good,” she says. “You should have something just as special for your mommy.”
"Speaking of," I add, catching Hannah's gaze. "Your mom is picking you up in a couple of hours. How about you open your last gift and then we eat breakfast? After that, you can go get ready. Did you pack your bag last night?"
“I did!” Hannah exclaims, practically bouncing on the spot. “Am I spending the night at Mommy's?”
I nod, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Yes. She wants to spend Christmas Day with you, and she’ll bring you home in a few days.”
Elle and I sit back, watching as Hannah carefully peels away the wrapping paper from the large box, the paper coming off in long, neat strips. The picture on the box slowly becomes visible, and I can see her eyes light up as she realizes what it is.
“A dollhouse?!” she exclaims, her voice full of delight. Her hands fly up to clasp together, and then she starts jumping up and down, barely able to contain her excitement.
“It’s not just any dollhouse,” I say, kneeling down beside her with a grin.
“It’s one we’re going to build together.
See here?” I point to the box. “It has all the tools we’ll need to build the walls, the cabinets in the kitchen and bathroom.
It even comes with sinks, tubs—and look, here are two toilets!
We’ll put up pretty wallpaper and make every piece of furniture to go in each room. ”
“Thank you, Daddy!” she squeals, throwing herself into my arms. “I can’t wait to start building it! Are we going to build it in the shop?”
“We are!” I reply, my voice warm as I lift her off the floor. “I’ll even get you an apron to match mine.”
I glance at Elle, a playful smile crossing my face as I wink at her. The anticipation of time alone with her feels just as exciting as watching Hannah’s joy unfold.
***
I watch, heart clenched, as Meghan pulls her car into the driveway.
"Is that her?!" Hannah’s voice rises with panic, the uncertainty evident in her eyes.
"Yes, Sweetie," I reply, forcing the words past clenched teeth. "Come on."
We both step out the door, but the moment we reach the stairs, I watch Hannah’s mood shift. Her excitement takes over, and she skips down the steps, eager to greet her mother.
I meet Meghan’s gaze just as she pops the trunk open, her smile tight, almost forced.
I drop Hannah’s backpack and small bag into the trunk. Then I help Hannah into her seat, doing my best to keep my temper in check.
I buckle Hannah in and kiss the top of her head.
"You’re late," I say, my voice steady but sharp as I shut the car door and turn to face Meghan.
"A little," she replies, tossing her hair back with an almost rehearsed smile.
"A little is fifteen minutes," I retort, my tone staying level for Hannah’s sake, though my jaw tightens. "A little is half an hour. It’s almost three, Meghan."
"I’ll have her home in a few," Meghan says, her voice dismissive, as though she’s already moved past any semblance of accountability.
"See you soon, Hannah Banana," I say, my gaze softening as I look at my daughter in the back seat. My voice catches just slightly as I hold her gaze, my heart aching. "Have a good time. and be good for Mom. I love you."
"I love you too, Daddy," Hannah replies, the words tumbling out with a sigh of relief, like she’s been holding her breath.
I wait until Meghan drives away, my chest tight with a mix of frustration and resignation. Just before it disappears completely, I catch a final glimpse of Hannah’s hand waving from the back window, the gesture small but poignant.
Elle left hours ago, once we realized Meghan might not show.
Her voice lingers in my mind. “Come over later. I’ll make you dinner.”
It was comforting, especially as I tried to ease Hannah’s growing anxiety, the fear that her mother might not show up at all.
After I shower and get dressed, I find myself standing in front of the Christmas tree. The last gift, still perfectly wrapped, waits for me. Untouched. I decide I can't let Meghan’s selfishness change what I’ve been planning for weeks. Today—this gift—means everything.
***
My gaze sweeps over Elle's beautiful face as she opens the door.
She's wearing a soft, deep green dress, the fabric shimmering slightly in the dim light.
The neckline shows just a hint of her collarbone.
An image of me kissing her there flashes in my mind, and I can't help but smile.
As she smiles back, I take her in, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.
"You're so beautiful," I say, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, savoring her softness and sweet scent.
"Thank you," she replies, smiling shyly. Her gaze flickers to the gift I'm holding. "Is that for me?"
"This is your Christmas gift," I say.
"I thought my new bike was my Christmas gift."
"That was just a decoy," I reply with a grin, "to make this a surprise."
When I walk inside, I'm immediately met with the warm scent of freshly baked cookies.
"Cookies?" I say, inhaling deeply.
"Your mom gave me her recipe," she says with a playful smile. "She said they’re your favorite."
"She must really like you," I say, raising an eyebrow. "She doesn’t share her recipes with just anyone."
The table is set for two. There are lit candles, cloth napkins neatly folded into gold napkin rings atop elegant place settings in a soft cream with gold edges.
"What's for dinner?" I ask, slipping out of my coat and placing it on the back of the couch.
"Roasted chicken with a butter herb sauce, baby potatoes, and fresh-baked rolls."
"So not only are you drop-dead gorgeous," I say, wrapping my arms around her, "but you're also a great cook."
She smiles, her eyes glimmering with something deeper. "I've always loved cooking. When Beth and I were in our last foster home, I’d cook for the whole family."
"You were fourteen!" I exclaim in surprise.
She shrugs. "It was either I cook, or we didn't eat," she says with a small smile, the weight of the memory passing through her like a shadow.
She looks away for a moment, as if trying to shake off the memory, and heads toward the kitchen.
"I wasn’t cooking four-course meals back then," she adds, "but I learned the basics when I was twelve.
Our foster family back then was an older couple—empty-nesters.
They were kind, and Mrs. Patton loved to cook, so she taught me as much as she could while we were there. It was the best seven months we had."
She pauses, her hand resting on the counter as she exhales softly. "Her husband had a heart attack, though, and they couldn’t continue fostering. So, off we went to the next family."
"I'm so sorry, Elle."
"Don’t be," she says, meeting my gaze. "It’s all behind me now. I’m here with you, with Beth and Hannah.
Being separated from Beth was a living nightmare, so to say I don’t wish things could’ve been different would be a lie.
I wish your family had adopted both of us.
My reality would be different now. But what I have here, with you, is something I never want to give up. I love my reality, and I love you."