At twelve, I hadn't understood why. I thought maybe something was wrong with the baby. Maybe somebody was sick. It never occurred to me that the conversation was about me.
I let out a rough laugh. "Even then, I didn't know." My eyes burned. "I sat down and thought we were having a normal conversation."
The apartment was so quiet I could hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
"They told me they loved me." The words scraped on the way out. I finally looked at him. His expression had changed. The confusion was gone. In its place was… understanding.
"They told me none of it was my fault." I shook my head because even now I remembered thinking those were strange things to say. The kind of things people said before bad news or when they were trying to soften a blow.
"I remember sitting there waiting for the rest." A tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away impatiently. Another one followed. Then another. "I remember thinking if I could just get through the conversation, everything would go back to normal. So I kept waiting." My throat tightened. "And then they told me they weren't adopting me."
Nine years, and it still felt like somebody had reached into my chest and closed a fist around my heart.
"I don't even remember what happened after that."
That wasn't completely true. I remembered pieces. Janelle crying. Both she and Sam apologizing. The explanations. But they all felt distant compared to the moment itself. The moment the future disappeared.
"I just remember going to my room." My voice cracked. "I remember sitting on the bed and staring at the walls."
The bedroom we'd talked about painting.
The room I'd thought would be mine.
The room I'd believed I'd grow up in.
I tried to laugh again to lighten the moment, but this time the sound broke completely. "I still thought they might change theirminds." The confession tore something open inside me. "I know how stupid that sounds."
"Kieran, baby, it doesn’–"
"No." I shook my head before he could complete the sentence. "You don't understand."
The tears were falling steadily now. Not uncontrollable tears. Just years of hurt finally refusing to stay buried.
"I waited for months." My voice dropped. "Prayed every night." I swallowed hard. "I told God I'd be better."
The words came faster now. Messier.
"I told Him I'd help with the baby. Told Him I'd be the best big brother ever. That I'd do anything if they would just change their minds. I just wanted them to keep me too."
I looked directly at Thane.
And for the first time since he'd arrived, I didn't try to hide how much this still hurt. "They never did."
The silence that followed felt enormous. Because now the whole truth was standing in the room with us.
This. This was what I'd been carrying all along.
"Kier." Thane's voice was quiet. Careful. Like he was afraid pushing too hard would make everything worse. "They made the wrong decision.”
"They loved me, and they still let me go."
The words hung between us.
"Kier..."
I shook my head. "Do you know what the worst part was?"
His gaze never left mine. "No."
