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Once Lloyd is back in his room and settled, I plan on taking Trina home.
I’ll carry her over the threshold, drop her in bed and keep her there for hours.
I don’t know how it’s possible that I’ve become this fortunate.
I’m a lucky bastard, and I’ll never forget it.
As we wait for the elevator to take us to the ED, Trina glances at me. “You got that tattoo on your arm to cover your bull tattoo, didn’t you?”
Lloyd must have spilled those beans earlier, but I’m not mad.
My life is an open book now. I want Trina to know everything there is to know about me.
“I got the bull tattoo when I was thirteen.”
“Is that legal?”
“Not even a little bit.” I laugh. “I was placed in a home with another kid who was seventeen. He knew a guy who did tattoos in the back of a pancake restaurant.”
She holds in a laugh. “That should have been your first clue that it was a bad idea.”
“You think?” I quip. “Anyways, I gave him forty bucks, and he gave me a tattoo that I thought was cool at the time.”
She purses her lips. “I’d give almost anything to see that bull tattoo.”
The elevator dings signaling its arrival on our floor, so I lean close and press my lips to her ear. “Blow me, and I’ll show you a picture.”
She turns to lock her eyes on mine. “Deal.”
I trail her as she boards the elevator and presses the button for the main floor. “Being married to you is the best adventure I’ve ever had, Graham. I can’t wait for the future.”
I reach for her hand, draw it up to my lips and kiss it. “Being married to you is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.”
“I’m Eldon Breckton.” A brown-haired guy in a police officer’s uniform shakes my hand. “It’s good to meet you, sir.”
I may have a few years on him, but I don’t fall into that category. “It’s Graham. Call me Graham.”
He gives me a curt nod before he shifts his attention back to Trina. “Thanks again for bringing her in.”
Trina smiles. “I’m glad I was there. How is she?”
“She’s great.” He beams with a broad smile. “She’s getting dressed. I told her I’d order an Uber to get us home. We’re both tired as hell, but happy. She told me you know, Trina. You know about the baby.”
Trina nods her head. “I know.”
Eldon huffs out a laugh. “A baby, Trina. How fucking awesome is that?”
She wraps her arms around him for a hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”
He pats the center of Trina’s back. “I asked her to marry me tonight. I never expected to do it in a hospital, but life is full of surprises, right?”
“Graham asked me to marry him tonight too.” Trina waves her left hand in the air. “We’re actually already married.”
“You got married tonight?” He huffs out a laugh. “When? Where?”
“No.” Trina chuckles. “We’ve been married for a while. It’s a long story, but it’s time everyone I care about knows that I married the most amazing man in the world.”
Eldon’s gaze wanders past my shoulder. “There she is. Look how beautiful she is.”
I turn to glance at his fiancée.
The sight of her smiling face floods me with memories.
For the first time in my life, I don’t run when I see someone I used to know from foster care.
I’ve crossed streets to avoid people I recognize from when I was a kid. I once handed off a meeting to someone else because the person I was supposed to sit down with was a woman I’d spent two months in a foster home with when she was ten and I was twelve.
I’ve avoided my past, but that’s done.
That stops now.
The woman approaching us slows. “Oh my god. Graham? Is that you?”
“Ro Sherman,” I whisper her name before I take off in a sprint toward her.
She leaps into my arms the same way she did when she was a seven-year-old kid. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
I set her down on her feet and look her over.
The shy girl I used to make ham and cheese sandwiches for is now a young woman. The gap between her two front teeth is gone, but the mole just below the corner of her right eye is still there. “I’m here. I’m here with Trina.”
She glances behind me to where I know her fiancé and my wife are standing. “You know Trina?”
“I’m her husband.”
“What?” Her hands reach for mine. “I’m so lost right now.”
Those words resonate because the last time I saw her, she was standing on the stoop of a house in Queens with a doll in her hand and a pink ribbon in her hair. She was crying as we waved goodbye to each other.
We’d known each other for almost a year, but we were being split apart that day. She was heading to a new foster home. I was being taken to another.
