“She’ll likely be with a client right now.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration or guess, either. Jacinda’s makeover idea had blown up. So many women and men who had health issues, scars, or were self-conscious about certain things outside of their control had contacted them, hoping for help from them all. They’d been invited on prominent daytime talk shows to discuss it, and slowly but surely, they were changing lives.
With body dysmorphia being a huge issue today, they trod carefully with each client, and made sure to explain things in-depth as they taught both them and the people watching the videos how to change certain aspects with makeup. They also had doctors come on to talk about what could be done for specific problems and ones that were raised by the people watching it live in the comments.
I was so proud of my wife, and, as impossible as it seemed three and a half years ago, I was more in love with her today than ever.
“That’s what I thought. Would you both be able to come to my office at around five o’clock? I have some news I’d like to discuss with you.”
Agreeing to it, I told Bond I had somewhere to be and left to go and visit my wife to relay to her what’d just happened. Neither of us wanted to get our hopes up, but fucking hell, I hoped this was good news. It killed me to walk past the two bedrooms we’d left empty in our new place every day, ones that were waiting for our dreams to fill them.
17:22…
“Are you serious?” Jacinda breathed, her grip so tight on my fingers the tips were turning red.
“Yes. As you’ll understand, it’s a very sensitive situation for Macy, so we’re going to tread carefully. She doesn’t want you to pay her hospital bills or anything like that, and she’s been very clear that she can’t keep these babies.”
We’d just been told that a seventeen-year-old woman, who was pregnant with twins, had asked to meet with us to discuss adopting the babies when they were born. From the little that we knew, the girl had been in a relationship with her sister’s boyfriend, but something was stopping them from being together, and she couldn’t keep the babies because of it.
Initially, I’d expected the story to play out in the usual gossip style, but with the expression on Mrs. Spring’s face, and after listening to the little details she could tell us, I was beginning to suspect something much bigger was going on.
The way Jacinda looked at me showed me she was thinking the same way.
“Is Macy going to be okay?” I asked. “Is she in danger?”
Mrs. Spring’s face softened at the question. “She’s safe, and after she has the babies, we’ll make sure she stays that way.”
“If she needs anything, even if she changes her mind or decides she doesn’t like us, will you let us know?” Jacinda asked softly.
“Of course.”
And three weeks later, we finally met up with Macy. I’d expected to see a fragile young girl, but instead, we met a young woman who only wanted the best for the babies she was carrying. Her story was worse than we’d been told.
Macy’s sister had been abusive throughout their childhood. She had major anger issues and refused to hold them back when it felt so good just to let it all out. Then, two years ago, Macy had fallen in love with their new neighbor’s son, but because of her age, nothing had come of it. The sister had picked up on it and made a play for the son, whose dad worked for Macy’s father’s company.
From what she described, we gathered that a deal was made that involved the neighbor’s job in the company in exchange for his son marrying the sister.
By that point, Macy and the son had begun a relationship, and she’d just discovered she was pregnant. Had the sister found out, she’d likely have attacked her, even if it meant she lost the babies.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Jacinda whimpered, her lower lip trembling as she held back the tears.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Mrs. Klein. So long as my babies are loved and brought up in a good home, that’s all I care about.”
“Call me Jacinda. Listen, if you agree to us adopting your precious babies, how would you feel about keeping in touch with us? We could FaceTime, send emails, maybe even arrange a visit when you want to see them.”
Macy’s head jerked at the question. “Do you mean you wouldn’t want them to see you as their mother? I don’t want that for them.”
“No, no,” Jacinda replied, waving her hands, and looking at me beseechingly to help her.
“What my wife means is that she’d love for you to still see them so that you don’t miss out on them growing up. You obviously love them very much, and even though we’d be their parents and love them, you could be a cool aunt or something?”