No biology required.
Just love.
And I have to believe that's enough.
I have to believe the judge saw what I see—a thriving, happy baby who belongs exactly where she is.
Because the alternative is losing her.
And that's not something I'm willing to accept.
Not now.
Not ever.
42
NORA
The week we wait for the judge passes the way bad weeks pass, slowly and unevenly, with too many hours in the afternoon and not enough in the morning. We function. We sleep in Tyler's bed and hold each other in the dark, and don't always talk. Some nights we just breathe together. Some nights, that's enough.
Thursday, April first. Ten twenty-three in the morning.
My phone rings. It’s Ms. Chen.
My hands start shaking before I've answered.
"Nora. Is Tyler with you?"
"He's at practice. Do you have?—"
"Judge Morrison has reached a decision. Court is scheduled for tomorrow at 2 p.m."
My knees buckle. I sit down on the couch.
"Tomorrow," I say.
"Tomorrow. I'll see you both there."
I call Tyler immediately. He answers on the first ring.
"Red?"
"The judge has a decision. Tomorrow at two."
Silence. "I'm coming home."
He walks through the door twenty minutes later, still in hispractice gear. We stand in the kitchen holding each other while Harper babbles happily in her bouncer, completely oblivious to the weight of what's coming.
"Tomorrow," he whispers into my hair.
"Tomorrow we know."
That night is the longest night of my life. Neither of us pretends to sleep. We lie in the dark holding on, both of us thinking things we don't say because saying them would make them real.
"Whatever happens," Tyler says around three in the morning. "I love you. That doesn't change."
"I love you, too."