Inside, the hallway smelled like cinnamon buns and craft glue. I took a step forward and paused when I heard Jenna’s voice from the kitchen.
It wasn’t warm or gentle. It was low and cutting, like a whisper wrapped in ice.
“Girls, you are not going to be staying here for long. So, don’t get too comfortable. James is doing what he can, but I mean…”
I froze. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“I’m not wasting the final years of my 20s raising someone else’s kids,” Jenna continued. “A foster family would be much better for you anyway. At least they’ll know how to deal with your… sadness. Now, when the final adoption interview is scheduled, I want you both to say that you want to leave. Understand?”
There was silence. Then a soft, choked sound.
“Don’t cry, Maya,” Jenna snapped. “I’m warning you. If you cry again, I’ll take your notebooks and throw them away. You need to grow up before you keep writing your silly stories in them.”
“But we don’t want to leave,” Maya whispered. “We want to stay with James. He’s the best brother in the world.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“You don’t get to want anything. Go do your homework, girls. Hopefully, you’ll be out of my hair in a few weeks, and I can go back to my wedding planning. Don’t worry, you’ll still be invited, of course. But don’t think that you’ll be… bridesmaids or anything.”
I heard footsteps, bare, quick, rushing up the stairs. Seconds later, the girls’ bedroom door shut too hard.
I stood there, holding my breath, the weight of her words sinking in. I couldn’t even move toward the kitchen. I didn’t want her to know I was there. I just needed to hear more. I needed to know more.
I needed to be sure before I reacted.
Then I heard Jenna again — her tone changing, like she’d flipped a switch, that’s how I knew she was on a call with one of her friends.
“They’re finally gone,” Jenna said. Her voice was light now, almost breathless, like she’d taken off a mask. “Karen, I swear I’m losing my mind. I have to play perfect mom all day. And it’s exhausting.”
She laughed softly, a sound I hadn’t heard from her in weeks. I wondered what Karen had said. There was a pause, then her tone turned sharper.
“He’s still dragging his feet on the wedding,” she continued. “I know it’s because of the girls. But once he adopts them, they’re legally his problem, not mine. That’s why I need them gone. We have an interview coming up with the social worker soon.”
I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself.
“The house? The insurance money? It should be for us! I just need James to wake up and smell the coffee… and put my name on the deed. And after that, I don’t really care what happens to those girls. I’ll make their lives miserable until he gives in. And then this naïve man will think it was his idea all along.”
My breath caught in my throat. How was I going to marry this horrible woman?
“I’m not raising someone else’s leftovers, Karen,” she said. “I deserve so much more than this.”
I backed out through the front door and shut it quietly behind me. My hands were trembling.
Inside the car, I sat completely still. My reflection in the rearview mirror looked unfamiliar — pale, drawn, and furious.
It hit me all at once.
This wasn’t a slip or a moment of weakness. Jenna had been planning this for a while. Every time she packed a lunch or braided their hair, every word of praise she gave the girls was part of a strategy.
None of it had come from love.
I pictured Maya’s journals, stacked on her desk, each one labeled by season and filled with stories she never let anyone read. I thought of Lily’s dirt-stained fingers, gently pressing marigold seeds into the garden bed she’d built beside the fence, whispering to them like they were magic.
I remembered the way they both said goodnight — soft and in sync, like they were casting a spell to protect each other in their sleep.
Jenna had seen all of that and seen a burden.
I sat there, gripping the steering wheel, jaw clenched, stomach twisted. My heart was pounding, not just from rage but from the ache of knowing how close I came to trusting the wrong person with everything I had left.
This wasn’t going to be a fight; this was the last chapter of Jenna’s role in our story.
I drove around the block for a little while, stopping to get the girls some pizza for dinner. And then I walked back in like nothing happened.
“Hey, honey! I’m home.”
Jenna rushed up, smiling, kissing me like nothing was wrong. She smelled like coconut and lies
That night, after the girls had gone to bed, I ran a hand down my face and sighed.
“Jenna… maybe you were right, babe.”
“About what?” she asked, tilting her head.
“About the girls. Maybe… maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I should give them up. Maybe we should find a family who will take care of them. They need a mother… not us… we’re substitutes, nothing more.
Jenna blinked slowly, her eyes lighting up as she realized what I was saying.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “That’s the mature thing to do. It’s the right thing for all of us.”
“Yes, Jen. And maybe… we shouldn’t wait on our wedding. Losing my mom made me realize that we don’t have time to waste. So let’s just do it. Let’s get married!”
“Are you serious, James?” she shrieked.
“I am. I really am.”
“Oh my goodness! Yes, James! Let’s do it. This weekend — small, simple, whatever we want.”
I shook my head.
If she smiled any wider, her face might’ve cracked.
The next morning, Jenna was on the phone with florists before she even brushed her teeth. She picked a hotel downtown, booked a ballroom, and posted a photo of her ring with the caption:
“Our forever starts now. James & Jenna, forever.”
CONTINUE READING…>>
