It had been a year since we’d moved in together. At first, Audrey had taken a few months off. During that time, she’d redecorated parts of the house, taken up horseback riding again, and enjoyed other activities like a wine-tasting class series at one of the local vineyards. She’d blossomed, coming into her own and rediscovering who she was and what she wanted.
And then, she’d announced that she was ready to get back to work. She decided to take over her dad’s practice after all, and the town’s residents had clamored for her services. She’d also applied to volunteer with CASA, an organization of court-appointed special advocates for children in foster care. I couldn’t have been prouder of her, and I knew Scott would’ve been too.
When the song ended, Audrey excused herself, and conversation resumed. Gwen chased Max through the house, barks and squeals ringing through the air. Brody and Luke were checking out all the packages beneath the tree. And the adults were drinking and talking, laughing and enjoying themselves.
I slid my hand into my pocket, patting the velvet box hidden there. It was Christmas Eve, and I’d been waiting weeks for the perfect opportunity. I’d somehow convinced myself that doing it in front of all our friends was a great idea, and I was now regretting it.
“So…?” Grant nudged me, already aware of my plan. “What are you waiting for?”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I glanced around, realizing just how many people were here to witness my potential public humiliation.
“Oh, come on,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “You already know she’s going to say yes.”
I gulped. “Do I?”
“Don’t make me lock you two in an interrogation room again.” He gave me a friendly shove in the direction of the stairs.
I flipped him off over my shoulder. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”
“Oh, please. Without my help, you two would’ve wasted months, perhaps years, trying to get your heads out of your asses.”
I shook my head, laughing to myself as I climbed the stairs to the second floor. It was quieter up here, though my nerves were still strong.
The door to the master bedroom was ajar, and Audrey was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to me. A small lamp illuminated the room, and I took a step closer. When I heard her sniffle, I paused.
“I’ll be right down,” she said, lifting a tissue to her face. Was she crying?
My heart clenched painfully in my chest. I pushed the door open before stepping inside and closing it behind me. “Audrey?”
She straightened and stood, turning to face me. “Hey. Sorry. I didn’t mean to ditch you.”
I crossed the room, grabbing her arms as I searched her face for clues. “What’s going on? What happened?”
She sniffled, shaking her head as she broke into tears. I pulled her into my chest, needing to shield her, protect her. All the while, I was trying to stay strong, calm, as the woman I loved fell apart in my arms.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I asked, “Babe, please tell me what happened?”
She pulled away, sniffling some more. “I got a call from CPS.”
I nodded. We’d filed an application to become foster parents, and we’d been waiting to hear if we were approved. It was a big responsibility, but we were both excited about the opportunity. And we had more than enough space.
“What did they say?” I massaged her shoulders, hoping it would help her relax. Though, I was the one who was suddenly tense.
We’d been waiting for months to hear if we’d be approved to foster. All along, I’d told myself not to get my hopes up. Despite our glowing recommendations from Grant and other respected figures in town, my background could be an issue.
“She—” She choked on a sob. “We were approved. They were calling to tell me that they need to place a little boy immediately. I know it’s sudden, and the timing isn’t ideal…”
I shook my head, my lips turning up into a grin. I already knew my answer, and it was a resounding yes. “Of course we’re going to help.”
“Yes?” She peered up at me through her wet lashes.
“Unless you don’t want to,” I said, wondering if she’d been scared to tell me because she was having second thoughts.
“No. Not at all.” She shook her head. “It’s just—” Her shoulders slumped. “His story, Ethan. It’s…heartbreaking.” Her voice cracked.
“And you know what?” I placed my finger beneath her chin, tipping her face so she met my gaze.
Her brown eyes glittered with sadness. “What?”
