Page 53 of Breakaway

Doreen inspects the organizer cube that flanks his closet door, peering inside the storage bins, a smile forming at the sight that greets her. His toys fill each one–some new, some old–and a decent-sized stack of books is resting on the top. She peeks inside the closet, finding a full wardrobe hung neatly, several pairs of shoes lined along the floor in a tidy row. I can’t think of a single thing he’s missing, but what do I know? Considering I scraped by with the bare minimum, my definition of necessity seems a bit skewed. I wasn’t even aware some of this existed when I was younger, but at least I was ignorant of what I was missing.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Miss Adams,” Doreen exclaims, her proud grin leaving me speechless. “I’m sure you’ve been stressed about today’s visit, but please let me put your concerns to rest. I’ve been doing this job for twenty-two years, and I’ve seen the best and worst of humanity in the process. You, my dear, are a breath of fresh air. I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through personally, but your character speaks for itself. That you can exude such selflessness when you have every right to be indulgent with your newfound freedom is commendable.” Eyes wide and jaw practically unhinged, I lengthen my strides to catch up with Doreen as she exits the bedroom. She unclips a stack of papers from her trusty clipboard and places them on the kitchen island.

“Does that mean Hudson can live with me?” I rush out, a mix of fear and excitement flooding my system as I await her response.

“It does.” She smiles lovingly. “I see no reason to deny you the chance of being Hudson Taylor’s legal guardian, but we still have a few visits we’ll need to schedule over the next three months. It’s just a cursory check-in to make sure things are going okay, so don’t fret. Once we’ve established this is undoubtedly the best fit for him–and again, this is simply protocol and my preliminary findings are congruent with that–you’ll be able to petition the court and start the official adoption process. I don’t anticipate your circumstances to change too drastically, but is there anything I should be made aware of?” Doreen waits patiently for me to answer as I share a sidelong look with Raiden. I’m still so accustomed to hiding my pregnancy, and it should be obvious to the naked eye, but I’d hate to mislead her on the off chance she thinks my size is from overindulging in all the foods I now have access to.

“I’m pregnant,” I confess, shocked by how steady my voice is. Every time I’ve uttered those words, they’ve been drenched in shame, but today is different. It’s not exactly excitement fueling my honesty, but I’m no longer humiliated by my situation. If someone thinks less of me, especially after knowing my story, then their prejudice says more about them than it does me. “I’m due in two months, give or take.”

“Congratulations!” Doreen lights up, her face clear of any judgment. “How exciting! Motherhood is a precious gift, and you’ve been given it twice over. Enjoy every second, dear.” She bounces from foot to foot, her mass of hair swaying with the movement. Her sweet, enthusiastic reaction stuns me silent. I’ve never had someone respond in such a positive way, but I can’t fault the guys for not being overly excited when my own feelings were more aligned with devastation. Doreen doesn’t question who the father is, as if the answer is inconsequential to her joy, and maybe I could stand to learn something from the exuberant woman.

“Lastly, I’m going to need documentation of your employment status, as well as a mortgage statement or lease agreement,” Doreen states, sifting through her pile of papers as she waits for us to produce the last few things she needs to finalize our meeting. Raiden grabs a manila folder off the entry table, briefly thumbing through it to make sure there isn’t anything missing before he gives it to Doreen. “Aside from routine pediatric visits, Hudson’s therapy has been upped to three sessions per week, so it’s paramount that he has reliable transportation. Is that going to be an issue?”

“Not at all,” Raiden answers, his quick response making it obvious that he’s thought about this well before now, unlike me. “We’re still trying to track down Andi’s birth certificate and Social Security card so she can apply for a license, but in the meantime, she has a solid support system, and we’re eager to help in any way we can.” I’m ashamed to admit that the possibility of needing a driver’s permit hadn’t crossed my mind. My parents’ inclination to act with reckless abandon, as well as their complete disregard for my safety, meant I was driving our shitty Airstream by the time I was nine. I didn’t even realize there were laws in place to regulate that sort of thing. I was too young to understand the complexities of legality, so it’s a miracle nothing ever happened while I was behind the wheel. Though I’d wager the public was safer when I was at the helm than when my parents were.

“Excellent,” Doreen responds, splaying several documents across the counter. “I just need your signature on a few of these, and I’ll be on my way.” I hastily read through each one, knowing Raiden will alert me if anything looks amiss, but the jargon is pretty straightforward. I scribble my name across the indicated spaces, excitement bubbling beneath my skin the closer we get to our meeting concluding.

“Alright, my dear.” Doreen’s smile grows soft as she takes me in, her gaze flitting around the room. “You’ve done a wonderful job of turning this place into a home any little boy would be lucky to live in. Parenting isn’t for the weak, and your patience will be tested far too often, but you’ll never know more joy and happiness than you’re going to experience as you watch your children grow. I’m looking forward to our next visit, Miss Adams. Something tells me you’re going to thrive as a mother.” I wobble slightly, her overwhelming kindness leaving me unsteady. Raiden slides his hand along my spine as we escort her to the door. Stopping at the base of my neck, his faint grip grounds me while his fingers trace my pulse point.

“Hudson’s therapy session should be wrapping up within the hour. If it’s okay with you, I’d like us to meet there to exchange custody. I believe his therapist wants to fill you in on his progress as well.”

“Sounds great.” I nod my agreement, my hands growing clammy as my vision starts to swim. Raiden bids her goodbye, and before the door has fully shut, I’ve sunk to the floor, my legs too weak to hold me up. Every ounce of adrenaline that’s been powering my body for the past few days seeps away instantly.

“Minha luz,” Raiden whispers sweetly, his forehead resting against mine as he wipes away my tears. “You did it. I knew this would be the outcome, but I hope you take her words to heart, that you allow them to feed your potential and starve your insecurities. I’m confident there’s no one more capable of raising Hudson than you.” My hands are fisting the sides of his perfectly pressed dress shirt, seeking something tangible to tether myself to the here and now.

I can’t believe he’s mine.

I’ve never felt such a clash of emotions. Relief mixed with worry. Excitement warring with fear. I’m terrified of failing him. That my meager knowledge won’t be enough to see him through every phase of life, not when I’m still learning and making my own mistakes. Aren’t parents supposed to have it all figured out? At least the decent ones? Logically, if I survived Danny and Prissy, then it stands to reason I can adequately provide for Hudson by simply doing the opposite of everything they did.

They might not have taught me the proper way to love, but their neglect and the absence of any semblance of a normal family dynamic have only heightened my need to foster that sense of belonging I craved. I want Hudson to know that he’ll always have a safe place to land. I’ll never put my own desires above his, forcing him to uproot his life every time my interest strays. There’s no way in hell I’d expose him to the sort of unrest that constantly plagued me every time I went to sleep in one place and woke up in another. If nothing else, I make a promise to myself that Hudson will always have stability.

“Fuck me,” Raiden groans as the door is thrown open, the heavy wood smacking the back of his head with an audible thud.

“Gross. No, thank you,” Briggs retorts, his lip curling in mock disgust. “Your danish, Angel.” He presents the pastry in dramatic fashion, bending at the waist with his chin tucked in deference. I take the hand he offers and allow him to pull me to my feet, groaning as the first bite of blueberries fills my mouth. It’s safe to say my breakfast tastes leans heavily toward the sweet side, and the guys have no problem feeding my addiction. At this rate, I’m going to gain double the amount of weight that’s considered healthy for a pregnant woman.

“Good god, dude. Get off the fucking floor.” Raiden levels Briggs with an unimpressed glare, grumbling under his breath as he struggles to pull himself up.

“Oh, don’t mind me, just probing my goddamn dome, checking for a dent. Excuse me if I took a second to weigh the possibility of a concussion,” Raiden snarks, palming the back of his skull as he tries valiantly to mask his wince.

“Peace offering?” Briggs teases, his lashes fluttering innocently as he extends a paper bag that’s filled to the brim with other items from the bakery. Raiden accepts the olive branch, begrudgingly, and quickly downs two chocolate muffins.

“Aren’t you curious to hear how the assessment went?” Raiden questions between bites.

“Don’t need to be,” Briggs answers while rummaging through the medicine cabinet so he can retrieve my bottle of prenatals. He shakes one out and hands it to me, then returns the vitamins to their designated storage spot. It’s baffling to me how at ease he is with making himself at home in Raiden’s apartment. I guess it’s been easy to overlook that detail since I’ve practically commandeered the space. I toss the pill back, grimacing as I attempt to wash away the aftertaste with a glass of orange juice. “I don’t need a breakdown of what was said to know that Andi spun her magic and had that walking fashion disaster eating out of the palm of her hand.” Briggs winks at my stunned expression, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth.

“I think you have a problem with giving me more credit than I warrant,” I chastise. “I was so nervous, I could hardly string together a coherent sentence, so I can assure you, there was nothing charming about my behavior. Honestly, if it weren’t for Raiden stepping in to answer some of her questions, I would’ve been a sputtering mess.” I glance at the man beside me, a soft smile conveying my thanks, though it’ll never be enough to accurately portray just how grateful I am for everything he’s done to help me.

“Well, consider my affliction chronic, Angel, because I’m convinced you can do no wrong.” Briggs’ devilish grin makes my stomach flip, his reverence something I’ve grown to appreciate, as I’m convinced he holds very few people in such high regard. Sometimes, though, I fear he’s putting me on a pedestal I’ll never be able to live up to. Being on the receiving end of others’ disappointment is a familiar acquaintance of mine, but I think it’ll hurt far more than ever before if they finally realize I’m nothing special. “Can we go get our boy now?” Briggs huffs impatiently, his finger tapping the counter as he splits his attention between me and the clock hanging above the door.

Our boy.

I refuse to look for a deeper meaning behind his choice of words. It was just a turn of phrase; he didn’t mean to insinuate anything more. I can’t allow those traitorous thoughts to take root, because deep down, a piece of me will always feel responsible for what happened to Hudson. I’ve done nothing to deserve the honor of calling him mine. It's ludicrous to think I had any sway over Tobias’ actions, but at one point, I did. I had his confidence, and he had mine. Somewhere along the way, he veered off course, making a permanent detour from the life we had spent countless nights dreaming about. It’s hard not to take such a drastic shift personally. Those insidious what-ifs will always look for cracks in my faulty armor, and I’ll forever be plagued by the possibility that I could’ve done something to avoid Hudson being a factor in Tobias’ twisted plan.

So as much as I want to lean into the idea of the guys sticking around and playing a bigger role in our lives, I refuse to burden them with a mountain of trauma. Eventually, things will go back to normal, and I need to feel sturdy on my own two feet when that day finally comes. I just have to remember that nothing lasts forever, so it’d be foolish to let my attachment to the four of them grow any deeper than it already has. But tucked away in a place I refuse to acknowledge, a small voice warns me that we’re so entangled, it’s going to be impossible to separate the strands tying us together.

31

Andilyn