48. Teller

48

TELLER

I pace the living room, unable to calm my nerves. The air is thick with tension, suffocating us all. I glance around at the others - Clay’s jaw is clenched tight with Piper bouncing on his thigh, Kip keeps fidgeting with his watch, and Ayla looks ready to bolt at any moment. We’re all on edge, dreading what’s to come.

The sharp knock of the front door sends my pulse into overdrive. I open the door and Sydney steps inside. She meets my gaze and I instinctively step closer to Ayla and Piper, needing to shield them.

Sydney’s presence fills the room, commanding attention without a word.

My eyes never leave Sydney as she sets her bag down, movements precise and deliberate. She straightens up and faces us again, looking at each of us in turn. In that suspended moment, regret mingles with resolution in her expression and a sense of unease skitters down my spine.

“I know you want nothing to do with me,” Sydney begins, her voice steady but laced with a deep sadness. She clasps her hands together, a telltale sign of her unease. “But I’m not here to be selfish.”

The words hang heavy in the air, an acknowledgment of the pain she’s caused. I can’t help but scoff internally. Not here to be selfish? She left us Piper with nothing but a short letter and a half-full bag. Selfish? That’s rich, coming from her. But I hold my tongue, knowing that lashing out won’t solve anything.

Sydney takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what comes next. Her eyes, once vibrant and carefree, now hold a mix of vulnerability and determination that I’ve never seen before. It’s unsettling seeing her like this. Part of me wants to look away, to shield myself from whatever revelation she’s about to unleash. But I can’t. I won’t. Not when it concerns Piper.

“I couldn’t be a mother right now,” Sydney confesses, her words hitting me like a punch to the gut. The weight of her admission settles over the room, suffocating in its intensity. She blinks rapidly, and I catch the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “I tried, but I just... I can’t give her what she needs. And I’m not going to go into all of the details, but…”

My mind reels, trying to process her words. Couldn’t be a mother? What does that even mean? Anger flares within me, hot and bitter. How dare she come here, after all this time, and say that? How dare she abandon Piper and then show up out of the blue, expecting... what, exactly? Forgiveness? Understanding?

The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. I can feel the eyes of Clay and Kip on me, waiting for my reaction. But I have no words. No clever quips or biting remarks.

Because as much as I want to hate Sydney for what she’s done, for the pain she’s caused, there’s no person I love more in this world than the little girl she brought to us.

Sydney reaches into her bag, the sound of the zipper cutting through the silence like a knife. My heart races, pounding against my ribs as she pulls out a folder, her fingers trembling slightly. She lays it on the table, the weight of its contents seeming to sink into the very wood.

“These are Piper’s important documents,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Her birth certificate, social security card... everything.”

I stare at the folder, my mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of what she’s offering. Full rights to Piper. The chance to be her father in every sense of the word.

I glance at Clay, Ayla, and Kip, their expressions mirroring the shock and disbelief that must be written all over my own face. We exchange stunned looks, the weight of Sydney’s admission hanging heavy in the air between us.

I turn back to Sydney, my voice rough with emotion. “You’re willing to let us take full rights to her? Just like that?”

She nods, her eyes filling with tears. “I know I can’t be the mother she needs. But you... all of you... you can give her the life she deserves. The life I couldn’t.”

I was expecting a fight…not a white flag.

I reach out, my fingers brushing against the folder. The paper feels cool and smooth beneath my touch, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside me. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“Okay,” I say, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.

Sydney’s voice softens, the edges of her words blurring with emotion. “I want you to give her a good life. I know you can.” She steps forward, her eyes pleading, desperate for understanding. For forgiveness, maybe. Clay clenches Piper closer to him for a second before I see him relax just a little. “I just want to hug her one more time before I go.”

Sydney kneels down, her movements slow and deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Piper reaches towards her, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, her chubby little arms outstretched.

“Hey, baby girl,” Sydney whispers, pulling Piper close. She buries her face in Piper’s soft curls, inhaling deeply, like she’s trying to breathe in every last bit of her daughter’s essence.

I can’t hear the words she murmurs into Piper’s ear, but I can feel them, the weight of a mother’s love, the bittersweet tang of farewell. Ayla stands beside me, her hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining. It’s a small comfort, a reminder that we’re in this together.

Seconds stretch into minutes, and still Sydney holds on, rocking Piper gently back and forth. I wonder if she’ll ever be able to let go, if the magnetic pull of her child will prove too strong. I remember Kip bringing Piper in for the first time into this room and how scared I was but seeing Piper’s smiling face melted away all of my fears.

But eventually, she pulls back, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. She presses a final kiss to Piper’s forehead, hands her back to Clay then stands, squaring her shoulders like a soldier preparing for battle.

“Thank you,” she says, her gaze finding each of us in turn. “For everything.”

And with that, she turns and walks away, her footsteps echoing in the silence she leaves behind.

As I look over the paperwork, making sure everything is in order, a sudden realization hits me. I turn to Ayla, my heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. She looks at me with a confused expression but I can’t help smiling.

“If you’re ready,” I say gently, taking her hand in mine, “you can really be a part of this family. You can be Piper’s mother.”

Ayla’s eyes widen, a kaleidoscope of emotions playing across her face. Shock, uncertainty, and finally, a glimmer of hope.

She glances at Piper, blissfully unaware of the monumental decision being made around her. I can see the love in Ayla’s eyes, the fierce protectiveness that’s been there since the moment she first held Piper in her arms. Ayla has more than proven to be Piper’s mother in everything other than blood. It’s the way she protects Piper, is constantly there for our little girl, thinks of how to make our home and lives better so Piper will be happy.

“I...” Ayla starts, her voice catching. She clears her throat, tries again. “Are you sure? This is a big step, Teller. For all of us.”

I nod, squeezing her hand. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. We want you here, Ayla. Not just as Piper’s nanny, but as a part of our family. As her mom.”

Tears spill down Ayla’s cheeks, but she’s smiling now, a radiant, joyful smile that lights up the whole room.

“Yes,” she whispers, then louder, “Yes, I want that more than anything.”

She pulls me into a hug, her arms tight around my neck. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, the rapid thrum of excitement and love and fear all tangled together.

Over her shoulder, I catch Clay’s eye. He gives me a nod of approval.

As we break apart, Ayla wipes her tears, then reaches for Piper, scooping her up into her arms.

“Hey, baby girl,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to Piper’s cheek. “I’m your mama now. And I promise I will love you forever and always.”

Piper gurgles happily, her tiny hands patting Ayla’s face. In that moment, I know we’ve made the right decision. This is what a family looks like. And I’ll do everything in my power to protect it.