Page 68 of Whispered Promises

She snuffles quietly into my chest, then exhales, long and low. I keep stroking her back, for my own selfishness, as much as hers.

“Because I’m confused about my feelings. Not for Nate, though, definitely not,” she rushes to explain, shaking her head quickly.

“No one expects you to have all the answers or know exactly how you feel or what you want,” I reply.

“But what if it’s maybe for…other people too?”

My hand twitches against her back; I have to force myself to breathe and continue my movement. I don’t want her to misread me and close herself off.

“Your feelings?” I clarify, needing her to be clear so I don’t jump the gun and assume something.

Her hands fist tighter in the fabric along my back. “Yes. I think I have some feelings for Max. Perhaps Brynn too.”

She buries her head into my chest, almost as if she’s trying to sink into me and disappear.

“Is there space for me too?” I croak, my throat heavy with need and a vulnerability I didn’t expect.

It’s not something I’ve felt in a long while. Compared to the others, I’ve been lucky to have spent a large part of my life full of love and support, so my insecurities feel minimal when considering theirs. Yet, it raises its head every so often, and there’s guilt over it. My parents loved me. Wholeheartedly.

However, seeing my mum so desperately craving more children to love played on my mind in those youthful times. As a child, I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t be enough for her. Why she couldn’t be happy with just me and my dad. The pain twisted and dug in deep, that longing to be the light in someone’s life.

After each loss she lived through, I was there for her endless hugs. Felt her hidden tears fall into my hair as she held me tightly. In those moments, the guilt hit hard. How could something I wanted hurt her so much? I wanted to see her full of happiness and love.

So when Bry had confessed to me at school one day that he was being put into foster care, I’d known what I needed to do for both him and my mum. Bringing him into our family healed us all in a way.

When I hit adulthood, I’d even mentioned to Dad once about my childhood worry of not being enough for one person, and the thought Mum had needed someone else to love too.

The stricken expression on his face at my confession still lingers in my mind, and I’ll never forget his words either.

“It was never about her not loving you enough. Your mum is just one of the few selfless people born into this world who are blessed with an abundance of love, and she gives it unconditionally. When we had you, it didn’t make her love me any less. Being loved by her is one of the best things to have ever happened to me, and I’d never deprive someone of experiencing that feeling. I could spend my whole life loving her with my entire being, and it would still be a drop in the ocean compared to her love.”

He was right too.

I still miss them every single day, but I’m grateful for every minute I did have them in my life.

His words remind me of Rosy; even if unconventional, I could see it working for us and our family. Her loving all of us, as we love her.

“You?” Rosy’s voice rises, and she pulls back to look up at me. Brows high in disbelief, and eyes almost comically wide.

Okay, perhaps I can see it in the far, far distant future. I may need to reevaluate things if our consistent messages, buddy reading, and lingering hugs haven’t come across as subtle flirting.

“I’d like to be considered too,” I say, trying for a more direct approach rather than risk slipping into the background.

Her mouth parts, rounding around words that don’t leave her lips.

“I can see this is something we should’ve talked about with you before now, but on the weekend, we all had a discussion about each of us having feelings for you…” I trail off, wanting to gauge her reaction before I continue. Will she be angry that we had a conversation about her without her being there?

“All of you?” Her eyes light up at that, and internally I scold myself at the words used.

“Yes, but Max obviously spoke to you directly about it, and I’m sorry, Rosy. He’s…been hurt badly in the past, and I’m not sure when he’ll be ready to move on from it.”

Her head tilts down, and she nods, staring at my chest. “I understand. He explained that to me.”

My finger crooks under her chin and lifts, so I can stare into her teary grey eyes.

“If I could save you from the hurt, I would. All of us would. But I can promise to be here for you any time you need to talk or hug. But I meant what I said, and if you feel like you have any feelings for us, then explore that. There are no expectations, but just maybe something for you to think about.”

The arm I have wrapped around her lower back squeezes at my words, tugging her closer into my warmth.