Saying it out loud made my chest ache. Not because I'd forgotten but because I remembered every detail. The meetings. The paperwork. The conversations about schools. The way Janelle would point out things she thought I'd like and say, "We'll have to remember to get that." The way Sam talked about teaching me to drive someday. At twelve years old, I didn't think those things might happen. I thought they were going to happen. Everybody did. Nobody treated it like a possibility. They treated it like the future.
For years afterward, I would catch myself remembering stupid little details. The color we'd talked about painting my bedroom. The desk Janelle wanted to buy before school started. A family vacation they thought we might take the following summer.
The plans were so ordinary. Maybe that's why they stayed with me. I wasn't dreaming about some perfect life. I was dreaming about a life that was mine.
A life where I belonged somewhere.
A life where nobody was going to send me away. I swallowed and looked down at my hands.
"Then Janelle got pregnant."
The words fell into the silence. I didn't say anything else immediately. I couldn't.
Because even now, nine years later, I could still remember the excitement.
The phone calls.
The smiles.
Everybody was so happy.
"I was excited."
The admission sounded strange even to my own ears. I'd spent so much time remembering how everything ended that I'd almost forgotten the beginning.
"I really was."
I looked down at my hands.
"Janelle wanted that baby so badly. Both of them did." The words came easier now, not because they hurt less, but because I wasn't at the worst part yet. "I remember Sam walking around with this ridiculous grin for weeks. I don't think it ever came off his face."
A weak smile tugged at my mouth before disappearing again. "They kept showing me ultrasound pictures like I had any idea what I was looking at."
That earned the smallest reaction from Thane. Not quite a smile. Not quite anything else. Just enough to let me know he was still there. Still listening.
"I started thinking about what it would be like." My throat tightened. Not enough to stop me. Just enough to make every word feel heavier. "The baby, I mean." I stared at the coffee table. "I thought about teaching them to ride a bike." The laugh that escaped me sounded broken. "I don't even know how to ride a bike."
For a second, the memory was so clear I could almost see it.
Twelve years old. Sitting at the kitchen table. Planning a future I thought I was promised.
"I used to lie in bed at night thinking about being a big brother. I thought I had time."
Because somewhere in the middle of telling the story, I could feel myself getting closer to the part I'd spent years avoiding. The part that still hurts. The part that had never stopped hurting.
I swallowed. "When things started changing, I didn't understand what was happening." Now I looked at Thane. "I thought everybody was just busy getting ready for the baby. So when meetings got postponed, I didn't think anything about it."
The words slowed. Each one harder than the last.
"When conversations got pushed back, I didn't think anything about it." I looked away again. "Even when things started feeling different, I kept telling myself everything was fine."
I could still remember believing in the promise. Still remember waiting for somebody to tell me I was worrying over nothing. "I thought if I was patient enough, eventually things would go back to normal."
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. I looked away for a moment but I could feel Thane watching me, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Not yet. Because once I said the next part out loud, there was no taking it back.
I drew a shaky breath. "One night, Janelle told me she wanted to talk after dinner."
The memory arrived with a clarity that made my chest ache even more because I remembered every detail. The dining room table. Sam sitting beside her. The way both looked nervous.
