“Well—”
“You signed the paperwork,” I remind her. She terminated her rights long ago.
“I was forced.” That’s a bunch of bullshit, but still, it’s not something I want to play around with. I won’t let some court system settle this for us. I’ve lived that life. Asher will not.
“Have you heard from Lucas?” I ask.
“No, did something happen?”
“Kind of. I tried to work things out with him, but it didn’t go well, so Jericho did it his way.” Her eyes widen. “Take the money.” I hand her the folder that has the check and some other documents she’ll be needing. Along with a picture of Asher. “If you care about Asher at all, let me give him the life I never had. Don’t make me have to do something I might regret.”
“Might?” She lifts a brow.
“You’re right. I won’t regret it, but on some level I will always be thankful to you. You gave me my son and a piece of Michael that I can keep forever too.” She drops her head, looking down at the ground.
“I was thankful when he married you,” she finally says after a long beat, surprising me. “Michael was different. I was worried about his capacity to love Asher.” She does care. On some level, anyway. It might not be a high one, but it’s there.
“He loved him in his own way.” She nods, standing with the folder. “I think it's time for you to start over. That check is made out to the identity inside of that folder. If you want that money, you’ll settle things here and leave. Start new somewhere else. Have a whole new life.”
“I love him in my own way too.”
“I know,” I tell her before she gives one last look at Asher and turns to leave. I might be naïve, but I don’t think I’ll ever see her again. Either by her doing or Jericho’s.
“Mommy!” Asher claps as I walk back over towards them. He stands, offering me a piece of his apple. I take a bite.
“How did things go?” Jericho asks, offering me his hand. I take it, and he pulls me down to sit in his lap.
“Good, I think.” He kisses my neck.
“We’re getting married this weekend.” He wraps his arms around me, holding me close.
“Okay,” I agree. I turn my head to peek over my shoulder at him. “People are going to think it’s a shotgun wedding with me being knocked up.”
“Sera.” His hold tightens.
“Are you okay with that?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time.”
I fight a laugh but lose. “I had a feeling.” Jericho isn’t stupid. We’ve never used protection. It’s never even come up, to be honest.
“Our family is growing,” he whispers into my ear. Asher walks over to Jericho, offering him a bite of the apple this time.
“Mine?” Asher asks, touching Jericho's cheek. Jericho's eyes light up with surprise. I rest my head against his while pulling Asher into my lap.
“Yeah, baby. He’s ours,” I say. Our children are the only people I’ll ever share my Jericho with. “He’s all ours.”
EPILOGUE
JERICHO
MANY YEARS LATER
“What’s the girl’s name?”
Asher jolts up from the sofa and gives me a startled look. “What are you talking about?” The words stumble out.
I reach over and pull the remote out from under his hand. Pointing it at the television, I say, “You started out watching wrestling videos but somewhere along the way it morphed into frogs, and now you’re watching how to make resin coasters. If you’re into that, cool, but since I’ve said your name about ten times in so many minutes, I feel like your mind is somewhere else.”
Asher faces forward and slides down the cushions. “Resin coasters are the shit.”
“I’m not saying they aren’t. Let me order you some supplies right now. I could use a half dozen myself.” I pull out my phone.
Asher leaps up and grabs the device out of my hand. “Don’t order any.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “I wasn’t. Your mother’s birthday is in a month. I was ordering flowers. Should I put in an order for the one who is on your mind?”
He looks at the screen, sees the flower arrangements, and hands me back the phone. “Sorry.” He thrusts a frustrated hand through his hair, a gesture I’ve done a thousand times. He’s Michael’s son but mine, too, in so many big and small ways.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to give up football for a girl,” he finally says.
“Never thought you would.” Asher is driven—more so than I’ve ever been. He doesn’t get that from his bio dad either. Asher is his own person—his own man now that he’s eighteen.
“Like no matter how smart or pretty she is, I’ve got my own goals. I’m not changing them.”
“I hear you.” I break open a cola for each of us and set his down on the table in front of him. I pick up the remote and flip to another resin video. This time the person is making a vinyl record.