Chapter 42
ANDERSON
“Aren’t birthday cakes for, like, birthdays?” Georgie asks.
She looks around the dining table, confused, looking between me and Ava before her eyes go to the other side of the table, looking at Rumi and Emerson.
Jack is standing, holding Evee in his arms as he gently bounces her, keeping her entertained as we all wait for Ava to explain to Georgie why we’re all here at my house—surrounding her with a cake.
At eight in the morning.
When no one says anything to Georgie’s question, she adds, “It’s not my birthday.”
We all laugh, looking at Ava. Her eyes are glassy as she brushes her hair off her shoulder.
In the last three weeks, her skin has had this glow to it.
I think it’s from the pregnancy.
Based on when she took the test and the last time we had sex, she thinks she’s about ten weeks, but we’ll know for sure at the doctor’s appointment next week.
“Seriously? Is someone going to tell me why you’re all here and why we’re having cake for breakfast?” Georgie looks between me and Ava before her eyes settle on her sister’s. “Don’t I have to go to school?”
Ava shakes her head, blinking any tears away. “We have other plans today.”
Georgie raises a brow, and it reminds me so much of the way Ava looks at me when I’ve said something stupid.
She looks at me, and I think we all know by now that she doesn’t even have to ask me for something—I’ll give her everything without her even opening her mouth. “We’re making things official today, G.”
I watch as realization comes over her features, looking around at everyone as we all smile in her direction, tears in our eyes at the pure happiness in the smile that grows.
“The adoption went through?” she asks in disbelief.
I nod, looking over at Ava as she nods too.
“You’re officially mine, kiddo,” Ava says, just as Georgie gets up from where she’s sitting at the dining table, throwing one arm around Ava and the other around me, holding us tightly.
I wrap my arms around my two girls, thanking the universe that this isn’t just for show anymore.
And I don’t have to let go.
The courtroom smells faintly of old paper and polished wood, as we wait for the judge to get to the last part—the most important part.
I notice Ava’s fingers twitching at her sides, itching for something to straighten, to align—the angle of the table, the stack of documents in front of the judge, the crease in her skirt. Anything to quiet the buzzing under her skin. Instead, my hand finds hers.
My thumb brushes once over her knuckles, a quiet reminder: I’m here.
Across the room, Georgie swings her legs under the chair, sneakers scuffing softly against the floor. She’s trying to sit still, but the excitement radiates off her in restless bursts. Every few seconds, she glances back at Ava like she needs to make sure she’s still there, that this is all real.
The judge’s voice cuts through the moment, formal and measured. Words Ava has been chasing, fighting for, holding her breath for.
“In the best interest of the child,” his steady, monotone voice brings me back to the moment. Ava’s grip tightens around my hand as he continues, “The adoption is hereby granted.”
Everything goes quiet.
Not in the room—there’s movement, a soft gasp from Rumi, Emerson’s relieved sigh, quiet coos from Evee sitting in Jack’s lap.
But for one suspended second, my world stills.
We did it.
This is what it was all for, yet we’re coming out on the other side with so much more.
And then it all catches up to me as Georgie launches out of her chair. “Ava!”
Ava barely has time to brace before Georgie crashes into her, arms wrapping tight around her waist. Ava laughs—a real, startled, uncontained sound—and it’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever witnessed.
But then, I see Ava’s smile. Wide, unguarded, carefree, like everything she could ever need is right here in this room—and she can be happy about it, with no reservations.
“I got you,” Ava whispers into her hair, voice shaking. “I’ve got you, Georgie. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Georgie says fiercely, despite the way she wipes at the corner of her eye. “Because I wasn’t leaving anyway.”
Ava huffs a soft laugh against her shoulder, blinking hard. Over Georgie’s head, she meets my gaze.
But I’m already looking at her.
Looking at my wife.
Looking at my family.
Georgie might not be mine on paper—yet—but she’s mine in every sense of the word.
Just like Ava.
And our baby.
As Rumi, Emerson, Jack, and Evee join us, the girls wrap their arms around Ava and Georgie as Jack claps me on the shoulder, his way of saying congratulations. The courtroom is loud and animated, our shared relief and happiness almost overwhelming.
I watch Ava, committing that smile to memory, knowing that now I’ve seen it, I’ll never get enough.
And then I watch as she, almost subconsciously, brings a hand to her stomach. It’s small. Barely anything. No one notices—except for us. My eyes drop, just for a second. Then lift back to hers. Everything unspoken sits there between us.
“Okay, okay,” Emerson’s voice cuts in, warm and teasing as she steps forward. “Are we celebrating, or are we all just going to keep crying in a government building?”
Rumi laughs, already pulling out her phone. “No more crying. Pictures first. Then more crying.”
It’s a day I know I’ll remember, regardless of the pictures, but we pose and smile anyway.