He takes my hand in his. “It’s going to be fine.” His eyes are earnest, urging me to trust him. I’m terrified of rejection. After four years of not knowing anything about my son, I finally have a name, a photo, and his adoptive parents’ names. It’s a lot to process, especially when I realize it could all be yanked out from under me in a minute. “I’m here,” Jace whispers, letting go of my hand to skim his fingers over my cheek. “I’m going to help you through this, okay?”
I nod, placing my hand on the truck door.
We head into the building and to the elevators.
The whole way up I feel like a clock is counting down.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
You might never see your son—it chants, taunting me.
The elevator doors open and Jace places his hand on my waist, guiding me to the apartment door. While he looks for his key I take a deep breath, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. My heart hasn’t beat this fast, ever. It can’t be healthy.
“What’s taking so long?” I hiss.
“It’s been like three seconds, chill.” He slides the key into the lock.
“Feels like forever,” I mumble, wrapping my arms around myself.
He opens the door and I follow him inside, drawn like a beacon to the laptop.
“Do you want me to look first?” he asks.
I wipe my hands on my jeans again. How is it possible for your hands to sweat so much?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m scared.”
He grabs his computer and sits down on the couch with it in his lap. I sit beside him, my hands now shaking with nerves.
He lifts the lid and types in his password.
The Facebook browser is the first thing to pop up, still logged into my account, and I immediately see the red message flag.
My eyes flash to his and my heart beats impossibly faster. Dark spots begin to dance behind my eyes.
“Breathe,” Jace tells me. “You have to breathe.” He rubs his hand over my back.
“Confession—I’m scared.”
“It’s okay to be scared.” He kisses the side of my forehead. “But you can be brave too.”
I nod, open the message, and begin to read.
Wow. I can’t say I ever expected to hear from you, but I must say I’m glad you reached out. My husband and I were willing to do an open adoption but your parents made it clear that wasn’t an option. I’m sorry to hear that it wasn’t your choice. It’s made an already difficult thing, impossible for you, I’m sure.
I’m not sure how you found us, but I’ve always believed in fate, and something led you to us, of that I’m sure.
Greyson—our son, your son—knows he was adopted. We call you his Angel Mommy and Daddy who gifted us with their beautiful baby boy because they thought we could love and provide for him in a way they couldn’t.
I won’t lie, this won’t be easy for us, just as I’m sure it won’t be easy for you, but I think we can make it work.
We’d be happy to arrange for you to meet him.
You can message me back here and we can arrange a time and place to meet. I noticed you don’t live far from us, so it should be easy enough to meet up.
Sarah
A sob breaks free of my chest. “Oh, my God.” I tackle Jace and he moves the laptop out of the way so I don’t knock it to the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him. “I’m going to get to meet my son.”