Page 45 of Doran

Her voice cracked.

“I didn't know how to handle it.”

“You handled it badly.”

She nodded immediately.

“Very badly.”

That almost made me smile.

Almost.

“I don't expect you to forgive me.”

“Not yet, entirely.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

I crossed the remaining distance and wrapped my arms around her.

She made a broken sound and grabbed me.

She cried against my hair, and I closed my eyes as tears filled mine.

I didn't forgive her, not completely. Not yet, but I could hold my mother. I could love her and allow her to start showing how she loved me back. And I could let her know that she hadn't lost me.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too.”

“I am so sorry. Truly. For everything. Harold was a terrible husband and a worse father. He should have never cheated on you.”

“I know,” I laughed. “It’s why we’re divorced.”

We stayed that way for a few moments before Lucy tugged on my coat.

And somehow, with my mother standing beside me, my children gathered around me, and Doran quietly watching the whole strange, messy family reunion unfold, the worst of the uncertainty began to loosen. Not disappear. Not yet. There was still trust to rebuild between me and both of my parents, as my father had let her carry on for too long and not said a thing until now.

But my children were here, and they were safe. And tomorrow, I was marrying the man beside me. For the first time since Emma commed us from Anaheim, I let myself believe that perhaps we were going to be absolutely A-okay.

“Come on,” I said. "Let's go home.”

Kaelor appeared, dragging a grav pallet behind him, which the pilot had loaded with the luggage.

“Right behind you,” he assured me.

“We’ve got cake and presents,” I told the children, and they grinned, trying to guess what they were.

“Nope. Not telling you. You’ll have to wait and see when we get there,” I laughed as Doran laced our fingers together, Lucy still on his hip. Then, we took our family home, complete at last, for now anyway. Seeing him with Lucy just made me more determined to find the right time to have a conversation about a baby.

24

SARAH

The backyard had never looked more beautiful.

Someone had come and strung little lights through the trees while we got ready, and more flowers, no doubt artificial, no matter how realistic they looked, had been gathered into simple arrangements along the path. There were no crowds, no grand decorations, no elaborate ceremony. Just the people who mattered.