Chapter 33

Hailey

The balloons bob against the ceiling, a rainbow of colors that Addison’s wide eyes try to follow. She rests in my arms, her fingers gripping my shirt as if I’m the only anchor in this sea of faces. Today is all about her, her first birthday celebrated right on schedule. Christian has gotten it perfect, down to the last detail, even though Taylor remains a wild card, having vanished after Addison’s surgery. I know he invited her today, though, and at least her absence means her case for full custody is dead.

“Can you believe she’s one already?” Christian murmurs, his hand brushing over Addison’s soft curls.

“Time flies,” I reply.

We started over after he came to me last month. We’re true partners in Addison’s care this time, and I know this is where I’m meant to be—Addison’s caregiver and Christian my lover.

Addison wriggles, her attention caught by the shiny foil of a balloon string within reach. I adjust her in my arms, and she immediately settles, her body molding to mine. It seems she, too, has made her preference clear, choosing the security of my embrace over the jostling group that has come to celebrate her.

In this room full of people, it’s as if Addison and I exist in our own bubble. Her trust in me fills me with warmth. As Christian returns to us, I know in our own way, we’re a family.

The flicker of the candle on the birthday cake catches Addison’s wide-eyed gaze, and a round of “Happy Birthday” fills the room. I help her, and together we blow out the candle. Smoke wafts up, and the room erupts in applause and laughter.

I put her in her highchair and smile as Addison digs her fingers into the soft pink icing, smearing it across her cheeks in her excitement.

“Look at you two,” Christian chuckles, snapping pictures. “A pair of cake monsters.”

I laugh, my own hands just as sticky and smeared as Addison’s. “It’s a new look for us.”

“Very avant garde,” he teases.

Addison’s giggles are contagious, but they slow down to yawns soon enough. She’s had her fill of excitement, and now, the sugar crash comes calling. I carry her up to her nursery, her head resting against my shoulder, leaving a sweet, sticky mark on my skin.

Once she’s settled in her crib, her breathing even and calm, I slip away to wash off the remnants of her celebration. I wipe away the frosting so at least I won’t stick to our remaining guests.

“Was gonna say I’d happily volunteer to clean that off,” Christian says.

His tone brings a flush to my face. “Maybe you can frost me and lick it away later tonight?” I say, grinning.

Freshened up and changed, I descend the stairs, returning to the murmur of the ongoing party. Pausing by the window, I catch sight of Taylor standing across the street next to a tree. She looks lost.

I step outside, the cool air wrapping around me as I cross the street toward her. Christian and I have talked about this. If she’s in, we’re in, but she’s got to make the decision.

“Hey,” I greet her, my voice gentle. “Addison just went down for a nap, but you’re welcome to join the party. I know Christian invited you.”

Her eyes flit nervously, but I see something else there too—hope, maybe? A desire to be part of this despite everything.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” I confirm with a nod. “Come on.”

Together, we walk back to Christian’s townhouse. The door opens to a scene of casual festivity, and I feel it, the subtle shift in the room as we enter. This is a moment, a turning point. And whatever happens next, it starts here, now, with an invitation and a tentative step across the threshold.

I reach out, my hand hovering between us. It’s an offering of peace in the uncertainty that surrounds Taylor. She hesitates for a mere second before she joins me inside.

Christian approaches with a smile. “Taylor, thank you for coming,” he says. He takes a moment to introduce her to the cluster of family and friends gathered. “This is Addison’s mother.”

The words hang in the air, and Taylor nods, acknowledging the title. They all shake hands, share polite smiles.

The party resumes its gentle hum, but an hour or so later, Addison fusses through the monitor. Her schedule is nowhere to be found today. My heart tugs me upstairs, and Taylor follows. Addison’s big blue eyes flicker open, still hazy from sleep. Her arms tighten around me as I lift her, hands gripping my shirt, searching for the comfort she knows. “Hey, baby girl,” I murmur, brushing a kiss on her forehead. She lets out a small sigh, but I can feel the uncertainty in the way her body tenses when she notices we’re not alone.

Taylor stands a few steps behind me, watching us, her hands fidgeting at her sides. “Addison,” I whisper gently, “this is your mommy.”

Addison’s arms tighten around my neck, and my heart clenches. We have a long way to go. But I can’t ignore the fact that Taylor is her mother. No matter how much I’ve tried to protect Addison, no matter how much I’ve stepped in to fill the gaps, I can’t erase that.

“Happy birthday, sweet girl,” Taylor says. She pulls out a stuffed bear with a pink ribbon around its neck and hands it to her.

Addison’s eyes light up.

“That’s for you,” I reply. I shift Addison in my arms, feeling her small body press closer to mine.

Taylor’s eyes are fixed on her. “Can I…” Her voice is hesitant. “Can I hold her?”

I look down at Addison, her face pressed against my shoulder, and my heart nearly explodes. I glance at Taylor again. She’s here. She’s showing up. That has to count for something. “It’s okay,” I whisper to Addison, rubbing her back. “Mommy wants to hold you.”

“It’s okay,” Taylor repeats as I hand her over.

Addison looks up at Taylor, her wide blue eyes filled with a quiet curiosity.

Taylor lets out a shaky breath, her lips trembling as she holds Addison close. “Hi, sweetie,” she whispers. “I’ve missed you so much.” Taylor looks up at me. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “We’ll figure it out.”

As dusk paints the sky in shades of pink and purple, the laughter and chatter from the party dwindle, and finally, it’s just the four of us left.

“I know I’m not ready to take any custody of her,” Taylor admits. “I have…a lot to figure out.” She looks away, her fingers absentmindedly tracing Addison’s back. “The postpartum depression hit me hard, but I am seeing someone about it.”

“Thank you for being honest,” I say, and I mean it. There’s bravery in her vulnerability.

Taylor nods. “But I’d like to be involved somehow. Babysitting, maybe? Just to start?”

Christian squeezes my shoulder, and I nod. It’s a small step, but it’s something, a chance for healing, for building bridges. “We can start with a night out.” he offers.

“I’d like that.” Taylor smiles and pats Addison. “We can have a fun night together.”

Christian looks at me with an adventurous glint in his eyes. “And we can work our way up to taking off for a few days.”

My heart leaps. “To wine country?” I venture.

Christian shakes his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I was thinking bigger than that.”

I gaze at him a moment longer. We’re wrapped up in each other and the anticipation of adventure, ready to work together for Addison.