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“Aunt Lizzy!” a pair of voices sing.

I crouch just in time to be tackled by Stephanie and Stella. Okay, maybe I’m not as fine as I think I am because when their little arms go around me, I burst into tears and hug them tighter. Their fingers start playing with my hair.

“Why are you crying?” Stella asks.

“I just missed y’all so much. I need bear hugs like Daddy gives you.” Their arms overlap around my neck, squeezing as tight as they can squeeze and they grunt from the effort. We release one another at the same time. “Thank you.”

Stephanie wipes the tears off my cheeks. “Are you going to play with us?”

“That’s what I’m here for, but first, I need to talk to your mommy for a few more minutes. As soon as I’m done, I’ll come find you in your room to play.”

“Yay!” she shouts, and then she grabs Stella’s hand and they run off to their room.

“We should sit,” I say as I stand up and face Sylvia. We pull out the wooden chairs and take a seat. Sylvia is on the edge of her seat. It’s like she knows juicy gossip is coming.

“Just tell me. Am I the first to know whatever it is you’re going to say?”

“Yes.”

She grins and squeals a little. “Okay. Proceed.”

“I told Marc the truth about the girls yesterday.” It’s hard to believe that it was just yesterday considering all that happened in that time span. Part of me wants to tell her the full truth, but she’ll tell Scott, and I’m not sure I want him to know. When Marc and I were lying in bed together last night before we fell asleep, he said I should tell Scott because he knew it was unusual for Roger to behave as he did in the game that day. But then, will Scott put some blame on me for agitating Roger? Marc seems to think it’ll soothe Scott’s mind to know the why, but I’m not so sure about that.

“He took it well, didn’t he?”

“Don’t sound so smug, but yes, he did. He also told me he loves me.”

Sylvia screams and launches out of her seat to pull me up and hug me. “Oh my god! That’s so exciting! I feel like he just asked you to marry him or something!” She starts jumping up and down and dancing us around the kitchen, making me laugh. We suddenly stop and she holds me at arm’s length. “Wait. Did you say it back? Please, dear lord above, tell me you said it back!”

“Yes, and he was speechless, so that was nice.”

“I must tell Meredith, so we can place a bet on how long it’ll be before he proposes.”

“Sylvia!” I exclaim. “Stop it. He’s not going to propose to me.” I walk away and plop down into my seat. “Goodness, I haven’t even thought about being married again.” It doesn’t seem like it’s been all that long since I stopped wearing the ring Roger put on my finger and his own wedding band, which I wore on a necklace after he died. It’s been two years, though.

Sylvia places her hand on mine to get my attention. “Don’t make me pretend you’re a child and I have to give you a talk. When two people love each other and they want to spend their lives together, they get married, Lizzy. Then,

if they want, they’ll have kids. Are you trying to tell me that you seriously don’t think Marc wants it all with you? That you can’t see those things with him?”

Images start to appear in my mind. A super small wedding with the white dress and the black tux and only our close friends and family in attendance. Me pregnant with Marc doting on me and then later, holding little blond-haired babies. Us living together and growing old. I’d have to decorate that plain jane house of his, for sure. God, I want it all so badly with Marc it steals my breath.

“Ask him to move in with you.”

“What?”

“I can see it all over your face that you see all those things with him. Let that be the first step. Then you can keep the girls’ room like it is and you own the house, where he probably rents, so it makes sense to do that for now.”

I tilt my head as I look at her. “How long have you been thinking about this?” Clearly, for much longer than I have.

“Since I decided to set you two up and saw that there was indeed a spark. I also think you should reach out to your parents. It’s way past time, Lizzy.”

Ugh. Marc told me the same thing. We spent too much time talking last night, I’ve decided. “Why should I reach out to them? They walked away from me. Not the other way around.”

“Your entire family is stubborn and you got a double dose because you got it from each parent. If you want a relationship with them, you’re going to have to make the first step. You should do it to at least say you tried. It’s been six years, and,” Sylvia hesitates, “I think they would want to talk to you.”

I narrow my eyes. “What have you done?”

Sylvia puts her game face on, which means it’s going to piss me off. “Let me remind you,” she starts quietly, but firmly. “You have always made it clear that you wanted to be hands-off, have no input, because the day we first held them, they became ours completely. That means those are my children and I can do what I see fit.” All true, all things I’m perfectly fine with, but why is it a punch to the gut? “I’ve been sending your parents photos of them for years. Just to show how they’re growing up because I know that’s why they stopped talking to you.” She takes a deep breath. “They’ve even seen them a few times.”

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