“They already have a mother.”
I could barely get the sentence out.
“They just don’t have her anymore.”
Grant closed his eyes.
When he opened them, something in his expression had changed.
“I want to live my life, Elena.”
I said nothing.
“I’m not ready to become a father to five kids overnight.”
He walked into our bedroom.
Then I heard drawers opening.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Finally, Grant zipped his suitcase.
He looked at me.
“I wanted a wife.”
His voice was quiet.
“Not a woman struggling to raise five orphaned children.”
Then he walked past me.
The apartment door closed.
I never saw him again.
THREE DAYS LATER
Five children arrived carrying small backpacks.
Noah stopped just inside the apartment.
He looked around our cramped living room.
Then up at me.
“Aunt Elena?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Do all of us get to stay here?”
I knelt in front of him.
His eyes were trying so hard not to cry.
“All of you.”
“Together?”
I wrapped my arms around all five children.
“As long as I’m breathing.”
At the time, none of us understood how expensive that promise would become.
Not in money alone.
In years.
In choices.
In pieces of myself I would quietly give away.
