Page 41 of Hearts of Fairlake

"Sure," I said, waiting until she’d left the room to let myshoulders drop. "Crap. I don't know why I thought we could get through this withouteverythingabout us coming up...about me."

"You had to know thatsomethingwas coming," he said, squeezing my hand. "Does that make you more nervous?"

"No...yes...no. I don't know," I said, peering up at him. "Aren't you freaked out? Worried? You seem so calm, when you had so many concerns before."

He shrugged. “Now we're here, I'm less nervous than when I stood to take your hand and say our vows."

"Wow, I wasthatscary to marry?" I asked with a laugh.

"Because I knew I was making that final step, committing myself to you, to all of you, and all that comes with it. Which means all that stuff we called corny, about having and holding, to being there through everything. I was committing myself to that, and I wanted to be sure I’d be good enough to give you everything you deserved."

"Jesus, seriously? You should have madethatyour vow," I said with a shaky laugh. "You giant dork, you are everything I could have ever asked for in a partner and more than I ever dared to dream I’d have. There's no one I want with me other than you."

"And that's why this isn't as scary," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Because I know I have you with me, and we will do this together. That's all I need."

"Christ, you make everything seem so simple," I said with a sigh, kissing his cheek. "That's a good thing, by the way...mostly."

"But not, for instance, when you're trying to explain how it’s a big deal when one of the customers at the shop gave you a weird look and then didn't make an order."

"Look here?—"

"Alright," Jen said, entering the room with folders and papers.

"Oh Jesus," I said softly. "Are those the kids?"

"These are part of my current workload. They are either prepared to move foster homes, be put into one soon, or any number of things."

"It feels like one of those sleazy websites where you pick your Russian wife."

Jen wrinkled her nose. “Thank you for that comparison. It will stick with me for longer than I'd like."

"Er—"

"What Felix is getting at," Luke said, the bastard not bothering to hide his amusement as he leaned forward, "is that that's...quite the load you've got there. You're asking us to pick a kid when there's just...there's quite a lot there."

The last was said softly but with enough weight to take my breath away. He was thinking the same thing I was, there were so many kids without homes as it was, but this was just her workload? How many kids were being shoved into the system where theymightbe helped, and how many were going to go through until they were spit out at legal age?

How many wouldn't even live that long?

"There are a few I think will...suit the two of you better," she said. "Don't ask me how I know. I've been doing this for almost ten years, and sometimes you get a knack for knowing things like that."

"Okay...show us," I said quietly.

It was a painful process, but not because it was slow or tedious. If anything, I would have welcomed slow and tedious instead of the slow-moving horror show we were given. It was everything I expected and everything I'd feared. These kids had gone through horrors so many people would never know in their lives, and all before the age of ten. I watched pictures, heard details and small parts of the story, and felt something inside me crack and grow brittle.

"And then we have Gray," she said, opening the thirdfolder of the four she'd grabbed. A boy. His age was listed as ten, but he wassmall and had trouble looking up at the camera. His expression looked angry as he avoided the lens, turning his face down enough so his dirty blond hair almost covered his dark eyes. But it wasn't anger I saw there, well notjustanger, but fear and pain that he was hiding quickly before someone saw.

"Him," I whispered before thinking.

"Are you sure?" Jen asked slowly.

I looked at the picture, and my heart ached. His expression was a mirror of the one I saw on my brother's face so many times when we were growing up. I had never been able to put it into words, but I knew it had always made me ache harder than even my parent's beatings and harsh, cruel words had.

"Him," I repeated, with more confidence, looking over at Luke. He met my eyes, darting his gaze around, and a slow, sad smile crossed his face.

"Him," Luke echoed, taking my hand in his, squeezing and relaxing because letting me choose was the easiest thing for him.

Jen glanced between us, her face a perfect blank mask as she evaluated...whatever it was she was looking for. After a moment, she smiled. “Alright, then, Gray it is. I'll get the necessary paperwork drawn up, and we'll start talking details about what's going to happen next, so you're ready."

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