"and in the end, we were all just humans... drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness" f. scott fitzgerald

-----

Emily recently started to love Saturday mornings. Being an early riser meant she was always awake before her sister and foster mother.

A few months ago this would cause her a crippling feeling of anxiety as she feared getting in trouble for leaving her room before Freen called them for breakfast.

Now, however, after testing her limits little by little, Emily had scrounged up enough courage to venture out of her room, down the hall, and to Freen's closed door.

With tentative little movements, Emily turned the knob and pushed the door open. She padded her way through Freen's room and went to the empty side of the older woman bed.

The first time she’d done this was two months ago. Freen was understandably startled, which caused Emily to cry and attempt an escape; Freen, once over the initial shock of her little bed intruder, was quick to comfort the girl and talk her through her panic.

Now, this encounter was rhythmic and expected. Emily climbed onto the bed, pulled back the covers, and laid on her side facing Freen. Like clockwork, Freen's eyes blinked open and she smiled sleepily at the little one parallel to her.

“Morning, sweet girl,” Freen whispered, raising a hand to run it over Emily's hair.

“Cuddles?” Emily asked, making her foster mom nod with an even bigger smile, her arms opening in invitation.

Emily moved into the embrace and released a content sigh as she allowed her eyes to shut again.

Sometimes she fell asleep until a decent hour on a weekend morning, other times she made up stories behind her closed eyes.

Unable to imagine anything better than having a morning cuddle, Emily drifted back off to sleep while Freen stayed awake a bit longer just savoring her time with her foster daughter.

Times like these, when she had nothing else to worry about and she was more present in the moment than ever, Freen couldn’t help but let the thought of adoption cross her mind.

It wasn’t her intention to adopt when she became a foster parent. Much rather, she was determined to be the last stop for a child before they found their forever home; a safe place that helped to heal what had been broken during their time in foster care.

But in these moments, when she was holding Emily closer than ever, she couldn’t help but believe she was meant to be her’s all along.

-----

“Does everything have to be a fight with you?” Freen asked as she blew air through her nose and tried to take a calming breath.

“I didn’t start this, you did!” Nita fought back, crossing her arms in defense and glaring at her foster mother.

“I just want to make sure that you and Emily will be okay for a couple hours. Excuse me for doing my job.”

“I think you’ve forgotten that I raised Emily by myself. I didn’t need any shitty foster parent then, and I certainly don’t need one now.”

Freen could admit, that one hurt a bit. She was astonished by how quickly this conversation escalated.

One minute she was just trying to lay out some ground rules for Nita who was going to be home alone with Emily for a few hours, and the next the two were in another verbal match to see who could hurt the other more.

Freen knew that she should try to talk Nita down at this point. Rebutting with something that could potentially be hurtful was not a route to take, especially since Nita could go on forever.

Freen couldn’t help it, though. The look Nita had set on her was making her feel nothing but anger.

“Do you not remember what happened the last time I left you to watch your sister for a couple of hours?” Freen asked, Nita seemingly unfazed by what was to come, “you left her home alone and shoplifted-.”

“-because she needed shoes-.”

“I don’t care,” Freen cut off. “You still left a six-year-old unattended. That means that like it or not, you still need someone to remind you about some very basic ground rules that you have to follow when there are no adults around.”

“Then why are you leaving me alone with her?” Nita challenged. “If I’m so untrustworthy and whatnot.”

“Because I have a…,” Freen faltered, realizing that she couldn’t very well tell the teen that she had a date, let alone one with her English teacher. “I have work, okay?”

“On a Saturday?” Nita questioned, cocking an eyebrow in mock humour.

“You are impossible,” Freen sighed, rubbing her forehead before she went to her purse and grabbed her wallet. “Just buy some pizza or something, don’t touch the stove, and for the love of Buddha, don’t leave Emily alone again. I don’t need P'Beer breathing down my neck because some fifteen-year old struggles to follow some very simple rules.”

Freen placed the 1000baht on the table where Nita could see them and gave her one last warning glare before she went towards the stairs.

“Bubs! I’m leaving now, baby.”

Little feet could be heard thundering above them, cueing Freen to the fact that Emily was not going to walk down the stairs.

“Slowly,” the foster mom warned, effectively making the quick steps slow down.

Emily met Freen at the bottom of the steps and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Be good for P'Nita, okay?”

“ ka,” Emily said, giggling when Freen tickled her sides and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You girls can call me if you need anything, alright?”

“Whatever,” Nita mumbled, moving past Freen on her way to the stairs and avoiding her gaze entirely.

“Hey, you think you can do me a favour?” Freen whispered to Emily, making the girl nod her head excitedly. “I need you to try to cheer P'Nita up, okay?”

“I can do that na,” Emily agreed, jumping off the last step and running to her art drawer.

Freen had set it up for the six-year-old after she’d been caught ogling her professional stuff one too many times. Freen decided it was a good way to make Emily feel at home and to keep her tiny hands out of the real paint.

“I’ll draw her a picture,” Emily said, placing her paper and crayons on the table.

“Thanks, baby. I’m going to go now. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Emily hummed, already deeply invested in her artwork.

Freen laughed and turned to leave, taking one last glance up that stairs. Sometimes she wished that Nita would be as easy as Emily.

Maybe then the girl would see that she wasn’t here to ruin her life.

-----

“What if I screw this up?” Becky asked as she sat in her car and looked nervously at the café across the street.

She had all of her sisters on a conference call, which was still connected to the Bluetooth of her car.

“Screw up how?” Taran asked, followed by-

“She could always spill her drink on herself,” Charlotte supplied, making Becky palm her forehead.

“Well that’s not very supportive, sis..” Taran returned, “it’s like asking her to trip over her shoelaces of something-,”

“Not helping, sisters!” Becky interrupted, her anxiety growing to astronomical heights now thanks to her sisters' unnecessary fuck-up suggestions.

“You’re going to be fine, Becbec..” Marima encouraged, her soothing tone bringing Becky's anxiety down a bit. She was the quietest of the bunch, but she always knew the right thing to say. “Just take a few deep breaths, smile, and compliment her. You’ve got this, Becca.”

“ Mari's right. Also, make sure your shoelaces are tied, just to be safe,” Charlotte said.

“The first date is always the hardest,” Taran reminded. “Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” Marima said, her voice rising slightly. “Don’t be entirely yourself. You can leave out the too cool to show emotion act in the car-,”

“I agree,” Charlotte interjected. “Also, no smirking. Your real smile it much prettier-,”

“Sissy..,” Becky whined, feeling her nerves rise again. “Why is this becoming a roast?”

“Reign it in, ladies,” Taran said. “Repeat after me, Becbec. I’m hot.”

“I’m not doing tha-,”

“Say it, damnit, or I’ll roast you too,” Taran threatened.

Becky rolled her eyes and repeated after her sister, though with much less conviction, “I’m hot.”

“I’m kickass,” Taran said, making Marima and Charlotte giggle while Becky sighed out in annoyance.

“I’m kickass,” Becky mumbled.

“And I’m a goddamn goddess who’s going to make Freen fall in love with me.”

“I’m not entirely comfortable saying that, Tartar.” Becky said, while Marima and Charlotte erupted into giggles once more.

“I tried to help you, I really did,” Taran said, her tone indication enough that she was throwing in the towel.

“Well, we can’t do anything more for you now,” Charlotte said. “You’re five minutes late and you should never leave a pretty girl waiting."

“Shit,” Becky said, rushing to check her reflection one last time in the overhead mirror before she gathered her things.

“Have fun!”

“Remember to smile!”

“Just be yourself!”

Her sisters said, all on top of one another.

“I’ll text you guys later. Love you,” Becky said, pressing the end call button on her dashboard.

Becky gripped her steering wheel and took one final calming breath before stepping out of her car.

She had this; everything was going to be fine. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

-----

Becky wasn’t sure why, but the second she found Freen on the patio of the café, all her confidence left her body.

She was happy to be in the taller brunette's presence, but her subconscious was telling her to fix her hair and that there was something stuck in her teeth even though she brushed them twice before leaving her apartment.

Freen was looking beautiful, however, and she was trying to engage in a conversation with her, so Becky did her best to subdue her paranoia and focus her attention on Freen.

That’s why she was here after all.

“Where’d you find this place, P'Freen?” Becky decided to ask, realizing that she’d never been to the small beachfront café.

It was bustling inside with the late afternoon rush, however outside was a lot more serene with its water views and warm lighting.

“This is my secret hiding spot,” Freen revealed, smiling cheekily as she sipped from her mug.

Becky only now realized that there was a mug in front of her as well, indicating that Freen already ordered her something.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Freen began, having caught Becky's gaze. “I needed you to experience this place the same way I did the first time.”

“It smells good,” Becky hummed as she held the mug to her face.

It was chocolatey, with a hint of
coffee. Nothing overpowering but subtle enough to soothe your soul. Becky was grateful for the break in caffeine. God knows it runs in her veins with the amount she drinks.

“You still didn’t answer my question though,” Becky said before taking a small sip.

“My dad took me here when I turned twelve,” Freen said, drumming her fingers on the table before deciding to elaborate. “I kept insisting that being twelve meant I was old enough to have my first coffee. My Mae was at her wits end so my dad took me here and ordered me this drink. It has a bit of coffee, which was enough to shut me up, and it sort of became our thing.”

“Do you still come here with him?” Becky asked, noting the way a glaze came over Freen's eyes as she looked out to the water.

“No, not anymore,” Freen said, a little softer than before. She was quiet for a beat before smiling and looking back to Becky. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s delicious,” Becky said, returning the smile. “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you,” Freen whispered, an obvious blush overcoming her.

That reaction definitely helped
return some confidence to Becky's body.

-----

“How’s the pizza?” Nita asked as she watched Emily eat her second slice on the couch.

The little one was dirtied with pizza sauce, but Nita wasn’t bothered so long as Emily was happy.

“So good!” Emily enthused mid-chew, making Nita laugh.

“Don’t choke, okay? I can’t lose you to a slice of pizza,” Nita warned, making Emily giggle and nod in agreement.

“Don’t you want any pizza, phi?” Emily asked, pointing to the box that had six remaining slices.

As far as Nita was concerned, that was potential meals for herself or Emily when Freen start withholding meals. She just had to put it in a ziplock and hide it in the freezer. It would last a few months at best.

“I’m not too hungry,” Nita lied, offering a smile as she messed up Emily's hair.

“Nity!” Emily whined, reaching up to fix the disheveled hair with dirty fingers.

“No way, Emi,” Nita said, grabbing her sister’s wrist. “A bath is not something I intend to add on our list of things to do tonight,” she explained as she brushed her own fingers through the six year-old’s hair, making her smile contently.

“Can you draw me?” Emily asked after watching the TV for a moment.

Nita had put on some Disney movie in hopes of keeping her sister entertained, but her short attention span was particularly obvious tonight.

“Sure,” Nita said, shrugging as she got off the couch and went to grab her sketch pad.

It’d been a while since Emily had asked for a drawing of herself. They never had access to cameras so taking pictures of themselves wasn’t really an option. But Nita didn’t want Emily to forget how she looked as a child so she crafted her skill enough to make decent sketches.

Every few months she’d sketch Emily, per her request, just to show the girl how she’d changed over a span of time.

The sisters sat together comfortably. Nita propped up against the armrest of the couch as Emily laid curled up on the other side. Every so often the teen would request for the little one to look her way so she could get every last detail of her face.

Nita liked these times, when the foster parents would leave and it could just be her and her little sister.

They could be happy and enjoy the company of one another without the interference of the real world.

-----

“Alright, I have a real question for you,” Freen said, fixing Becky with a serious look that only made the woman laugh a bit more.

“Fire away,” the other brunette said, resting back in her seat.

“Why did you accept a date from someone who’s kid is horrible to you?”

“I was pressured if you don’t recall,” Becky teased, making the foster mom laugh. “No, for real though, Pranita is not horrible to me.”

“Please, we’ve both sat in on those meetings. You’ve told me yourself some of the things she’s said to you.”

“She’s a different case though,” Becky said, shrugging slightly. “Being a foster kid isn’t easy, even if you get a good placement.”

“I’m starting to question if I really am a good placement for her. She fights me on everything. Like I thought I was a bad teen, but Nita is next level.”

“You’d be surprised. I think Pranita is much better behaved than I was. It didn’t help that my foster mom was the principal of the school.”

“You were a foster kid?” Freen asked, seeming a bit surprised.

“Yeah. Araya's my adoptive mom, actually,” Becky said, making Freen gape at her even more.

“How long were you in the system for?” Freen asked, making Becky pause for a minute to think it over.

“Eight years. My sister and I were taken from our bio mom when I was eight and she was six and we ended up in Araya's care eight years later.”

“So that’s why you’re so patient with Nita,” Freen said, nodding in understanding.

“It’s hard to punish her when I know that she blames herself for a lot of what’s happening in her life. There’s also the added weight of having Emily around.”

“I never thought about it like that,” Freen said, chewing her lip as she thought over Becky's words. “Like I’ve done my best to consider her past, I really have, but she fights me on everything while Emily seems so well adapted to living with me.”

“My sister, Charlotte, was a lot like that too. She was so content wherever we went while I was a defiant mess. I think it’s due to the fact that us older siblings feel the need to protect our younger siblings. I sheltered Charlotte from the abuse and neglect as much as possible, which is something that I feel Pranita does as well.”

“How do I show her that I want to be there for her, then? What did Mrs. Araya do that made you finally trust her.”

“Well, a lot of my anger came from a place of jealousy. I thought she was privileged for getting to grow up with two parents and not have to bounce between homes her whole life. But after she was real with me, and told me about her life, I finally got a sense that she was a person too who has struggled and fought to get to where she was. She also never gave up on me. I could scream and hit and fight her all I wanted but she never once faltered in her promise to stay with me. She was the first foster parent to ever stick by me.”

-----

It was nearing 8pm when Nita noticed Emily had fallen asleep on her side of the couch.

The sketch was nearly complete, and despite her desire to show the younger girl the final product, Nita knew Emily loved her sleep more than anything else, so she let her be.

Instead, Nita opted to set her sketch pad aside and shuffle closer to her little sister. She adjusted the blanket that Emily had grabbed earlier and set the girl’s legs over her lap before grabbing the remote control.

As the teen started to browse through Netflix for something that wasn't PG, she allowed herself to absentmindedly run her nails over own side, taking some solace in her self soothing habit.

Her gentle scratching came to a halt when she grazed the slightly raised scar that marred the skin just under her left ribs.

Nita gulped thickly and tried to take a steadying breath as she withdrew her hand. The events of almost seven months ago quickly shot through her mind.

A strangled sob attempted to leave Nita's mouth.

She quickly abandoned Emily on the couch and ran to the upstairs bathroom where she promptly allowed herself to fall apart once the door was locked behind her.

Just as Nita began to spiral into a panic attack, the memory hit her once again.

It was late afternoon, and Emily and Nita were in the kitchen setting everything up for dinner.

Their current foster parents expected dinners to be hot and ready by the time they arrived home from work, which was typically 7:30pm on the dot.

The sisters had made a good system of getting things ready so they could sneak some food for themselves and be out of the way of Jun and Mark by the time they walked through the front door.

Nita was in the midst of making dinner when a loud crash at the table startled her. She snapped her gaze around to see Emily practically shaking with a broken plate around her feet.

Nita abandoned the wooden spoon in the sauce she was making and rushed to the little girl, carefully picking her up as to avoid injury before setting her on the countertop.

“I’m sorry ka,” Emily squeaked out, already taking in sharp breaths in anticipation for the consequences.

“It’s okay. They’re not home yet. I’ll take care of it,” Nita promised, briefly checking the underside of Emily's feet before leaving her at the counter and hurrying to grab a dustpan.

The teen swept the broken plate up and rushed outback to dispose of it in the trash in the shed, hoping that her foster parents didn’t notice the shards.

The two sisters resumed their preparations for dinner and left the room all set for Jun and Mark.

Before quickly rushing Emily to their small room down the hall, Nita made sure to fill up their small plastic take-out container with some food so they could share it later that night .

“Can’t we eat it now?” Emily asked.

She was only five and had yet to grasp why it was so bad for her to eat whenever she wanted.

“Not until after lights out, Emi.. Remember?” Nita said, tucking the takeout container under the bed and crossing her fingers that the small portion would go unnoticed by Jun.

Jun was, if anything, the most anal person to walk the planet, and she was incredibly good at noticing when things were missing. Even food portions.

Emily and Nita had managed to work through some homework before Jun's shrill voice was calling for them to clean up the dinner dishes.

Like robots, the two girls returned to the kitchen to clear away their foster parents’ dishes and wash everything.

Jun hovered the whole time, making sure no spot was left unclean and that every drop of water was dried.

Nita kept Emily close to her side, going between scrubbing dishes and making sure that the things Emily dried came out perfect before allowing her to set them aside.

It was as the last dish was put away that Jun spotted something.

“Go to the room,” Nita whispered to Emily as she took the rag from the little girl and sent her off.

“There’s a missing plate,” Jun said, mainly to Mark who was sipping an espresso and ignoring the world around him. “Why is a plate missing?” Jun snapped at Nita who jumped fiercely at her tone.

“I don’t know,” Nita lied, her breaths escalating as she watched Jun's face turn bright red.

“Don’t lie to me, little girl.”

“I swear- ow!” Nita gasped as Jun clasped her arm and dug her nails into the flesh.

The older woman gave her little opportunity to speak. Much rather, she began to drag the young teen out back to the shed where she shoved her towards the trash bin.

“Open it,” the woman sneered.

Nita shakily obliged and lifted the lid. Most shards had fallen around the bags that piled up in the bin, but one piece, no larger than a finger, sat at the top, giving away her lie.

“If you don’t know, then what is this?” Jun demanded, her anger bubbling further as she picked up the piece of broken plate and turned it towards Nita who jumped back quickly.

“It was an accident,” Nita said, already starting to cry. She was so scared and couldn’t help it. “I tripped on the rug in the kitchen and dropped it. I’m sorry. I’ll buy a new one.”

“You stupid, stupid girl!” Jun yelled, starting to push and kick at the smaller teen.

One miss step sent Nita backwards onto the ground.

“You ungrateful, stupid child! No wonder nobody wants you.”

Nita wasn’t sure what hurt more. The endless slaps and kicks, or the words leaving her foster mother’s mouth.

“I ought to teach you how to behave,” Jun yelled, blindly swiping the hand that still held to the shard of plate down onto Nita.

The piece of broken glass jabbed into Nita and dragged along her left side. The teen cried out and grasped at her now bleeding ribs.

Jun took in a sharp breath of annoyance and chucked the piece of plate at the wall.

“Look what you made me do!” The woman screamed, stomping out of the shed and leaving a still sobbing Nita on the floor.

The wound, from what Nita could feel, was gaping and ragged. It would need stitches in any other case, but knowing Jun and Mark, they wouldn’t take her to the hospital.

As the young girl tried to think of a way to ease the pain and repair the wound, the shed door opened to reveal Mark.

“No-,” Nita sobbed, starting to crawl backward and away from the man, despite the shooting pain in her side.

“Quit it, I ain’t gonna touch you,” Mark said past a cigarette.

He knelt by Nita's side and pressed a knee down onto her legs, effectively holding her in place.

Nita wasn’t sure if she was more panicked to be in this position with Mark or what he was about to do to her wound. At this point she’d allowed herself to go completely numb and let the man do whatever it is he came for.

A dousing of rubbing alcohol, and ten butterfly closures later, Nita was deemed okay enough to survive.

“Tell anyone that this shit happened, and you and your sister will be locked up in this shed for good, got that?” Mark threatened.

Nita was too far gone to even really respond. A weak nod was enough to suffice as the man gathered his things and left her alone again.

Thirty minutes later, once all the lights except for the master bedroom had gone off inside the house, Nita gathered herself enough to re-entre the home and creep towards her shared room.

When she walked in, Emily was curled up in the closet where she knew to hide if Nita sent her in on her own.

“Nity..,” the little one squeaked, rushing to hug her around her waist.

Nita hissed at the jostle but carefully hugged her sister back.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“Can I eat now, phi?” Emily asked, clearly unable to see the state that Nita was in as the lights were off in the room.

“Go ahead,” Nita said, moving to change shirts and climb into bed.

Emily ate the food and tried to offer Nita bites, only to have the older girl shake her head and gently push the hand away.

“You gotta eat too, phi,” Emily insisted.

“Not tonight, Emi.,” Nita said, her emotions bubbling and tears rolling down her cheeks.

Emily didn’t say anything at the sight. Much rather, she left the food on the floor and climbed into bed with her sister and hugged her gently, Nita began to sob at the gesture.

She sometimes wondered if anyone would ever be there for her and Emily the way they needed.

Maybe it was time for her to stop hoping for a miracle to happen and just accept that in this life she couldn’t trust anyone but her little sister.

It would save her more heartache than necessary.

Nita didn’t realize how loud her sobs were, or how lost in thought she got.

The light rapping of knuckles on the door got her attention and snapped her out of her gaze that was stuck on the scar that she looked at through her reflection in the mirror.

“Nity?” A little, tired voice called, making Nita take a jagged breath in and wipe her face with her shirt before she rushed to put it back on.

“Yeah?” She called, hoping that her voice remained void of any emotion.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked.

Nita splashed cold water on her face and began to dry it off as she opened the door.

“Yeah. I just had to wash my face,” the teen lied, looking down at Emily who twisted her lips side to side in uncertainty. “Let’s go finish that movie before Freen gets back, yeah?” Nita suggested before Emily could ask more questions.

Deep down she decided to never let her little sister see her fall apart like that again.

Emily was too little to see that happen.

-----

“I can’t believe you convinced me to eat pie for dinner,” Freen said as she split the last bite of mango lime pie in half and motioned for Becky to finish it with her.

“To wild for you?” Becky asked past a laugh as she stabbed her piece with a fork.

“I needed someone to remind me that sugar for dinner is perfectly appropriate every once in a while.”

“Ahh, so you’re a healthy person,” Becky teasingly accused, making Freen shake her head.

“If it were up to me, I’d eat take out whenever possible. But the two mouths I feed at home require well-balanced diets.”

“Well, thank you for breaking your balanced diet to eat pie with me.”

“Thank you for being the bad influence,” Freen returned, the two women smiling at one another for a beat.

Their little bubble was broken by one of the baristas who stepped out to clear their plates and mugs.

“Can I get you ladies anything else? We’re about to close things up for the night,” the man said, making Becky and Freen break eye-contact.

“Is it already closing?” Freen asked, slightly bewildered, as she grabbed her phone to check the time.

“I think we’re all good here. Thanks for everything,” Becky said to the barista before handing him the money, enough to cover the cost of the pie and leave a tip. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you. You ladies have a lovely evening,” the man said before leaving them alone again.

“Beck, you didn’t have to pay. I invited you on this date, remember?” Freen said, just realizing that Becky had handed the barista money.

“You got the drinks; it was the least I could do. Besides, I was the one that forced you to cheat on that balanced diet of yours and eat pie for dinner.”

Freen laughed and grasped one of Becky's hands that was resting on the tabletop.

“Thank you na ka,” she said, smiling at the other brunette once again.

“Maybe next week you’ll let me take you out somewhere,” Becky suggested, allowing herself to be bold for a minute.

“I’d like that,” Freen said, doing her best to contain her giddiness.

“You really should get home to the girls, though.”

“Shit, right,” Freen snapped back to reality, standing from the table while still holding Becky's hand.

The two women gathered their things and headed for the patio exit. Becky joined Freen to her car, which was three down from her own.

“I’ll text you later, yeah?” Freen asked as she pulled Becky into a hug.

Becky hummed her agreement and returned the hug before pulling back.

The embrace made the ache in her chest re-appear. It was so reminiscent of Heidi, but Becky refused to let herself go there.

She forced herself to look at Freen. To see Freen.

This was going to be different. She was going to let herself believe that this was going to be different.

Becky gave the taller brunette's hand a slight squeeze. “Have a nice night, P'Freen.”

“You too, Becky.”

With that, the two went their separate ways.

Freen drove off just as Becky climbed into her car. The brunette grabbed her phone and subconsciously dialed the number she had memorized for almost ten years now.

The call rang, clicked, and then-

“Hi there, you’ve reached Heidi Armstrong. Sorry I missed your call, I’m probably doing something really fun right now-,” Heidi laughed, followed by Becky's muffled one. “Try again later.”

*Beep*

Becky sobbed as the sound ended and rested her head on her steering wheel.

“Heidi..,” she whispered, deciding that saying it out loud would only do more good than harm.

“I met someone. She’s beautiful, and kind, and I see everything that I loved about you in her. I want this to work out with her- but I want you to know that I still love you. You were my everything, baby. I’m not moving on. Just moving forward. Please remember that,” Becky sniffled, before adding, “I love you.”

Becky hung up and was prepared to start driving home when a call interrupted her.

Araya's contact popped up, making the brunette sigh out in relief that she wouldn’t have to deal with any of her sisters right now.

“Hi, Ma,” Becky said as she answered the phone.

“Hi, baby,” Araya greeted, her tone already set at the comforting level that Becky knew was saved just for her.

“How did you know?” Becky asked, jumping right to the chase and allowing for her tears to be more apparent in her voice.

“ Mothers just know when their babies need them. Tell me what’s wrong.”

So, Becky talked, and Araya listened. And slowly but surely Becky started to feel less guilty about her wonderful date with Freen Sarocha Chankimha.

To be continued...

A/N:

Charlotte Austin

Marima Suphatra Kliangprom