Page 24 of The Secrets We Built Together

But this was me.

I was the teenager who'd walked away from everything she knew because I knew the path I needed to follow, no matter if my family wouldn't support me when I traveled it.

"I need to figure this out and do it myself," I said, my stomach lurching at just the thought. "It's time for me to grow up, Lanes."

Delaney's gaze flicked up to my face. "I don't want you to change. You're the best person I know Blake."

"Of course I am! And I'm not going to change really, I'm just going to have a whole hell of a lot less free time." The corner ofmy mouth ticked up wryly. "And it's about time. I couldn't carry on like this."

"Yes you could!" Delaney whisper-shouted and then cringed as Amelia stirred. "You're amazing, Blake. And the things you paint... they're the most beautiful paintings I've ever seen. I never got art. But I get yours. It makes me feel and I can never take my eyes away from them."

I looked away embarrassed. I'd never been good at accepting a compliment. I guess I'd spent too much of my childhood hearing how I wasn't quite good enough.

That happened when both of your parents were narcissists.

"You should do the show," Delaney added. "You need to show the world what you can do."

"I can't, Lanes." I settled back on the couch and put Amelia on my shoulder as I gently rubbed her back not wanting to wake her. The weight of her, so small yet so significant, already felt right against me. "I need a job now. An apartment or something. Do they even have apartments in Willowbrook?"

"Of course we have apartments here. It's not Blue Point Bay," she scoffed sarcastically.

I grinned in response. Delaney had really sunk back into her small town roots over the last few months, and it was frankly adorable.

"I'm sure that's a sick burn if you understand it," I said, poking her in the ribs. Then a small smile came to my lips as I looked at her stomach. "We get to do the whole baby thing together this time."

"And you didn't even have to go through childbirth," Delaney pointed out. "That's cheating, you know."

"Well, you're going to do it twice so you've basically taken my turn."

"I'm not sure that's how it works."

"Works for me."

Amelia made a small sound against my shoulder, and I felt the warmth of her breath against my neck. I patted her back gently, the rhythm becoming more natural each time I did it.

Delaney laughed softly and then she sighed. There was so much that we weren't talking about, the actual practicalities of this whole thing for one. It wouldn't be as easy as just deciding that Amelia was mine.

"We can convert one of the barns here into a cottage. I could give you a job at the cider mill. We definitely need a resident artist on staff."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" I asked, rolling my head to the side so I could look at my best friend.

"Never!" Delaney gasped quietly. "Honestly, it's such an emotional rollercoaster for me sitting here wondering if you'll ever..."

I poked her in the ribs again laughing softly at her antics. This was exactly why I loved her. Delaney always helped me to stay away from the shadows in my mind. The self-doubts were so much quieter when I had her at my side.

Was Delaney right? Could I do this without giving up on the dream that had kept me going all these years? I didn't see how any official person would look at me, a homeless, slightly broke artist and thinkthere's a good guardian for a baby.

I sighed sadly. This was an impossible situation. Maybe I should let Delaney and Trace take in Amelia. I'd still be able to see her as often as I wanted. I could be the fun Aunt I was always supposed to be.

But when I looked at the sleeping baby on my shoulder, I knew I couldn't do that. I gently adjusted Madison's handmade blanket around her tiny shoulders, thinking about how I might be able to preserve it somehow—a connection to the mother who'd left her but had at least given her this one thing.

I knew what it was like to be thrown away by my family because I refused to fit into their plans. At least I'd had a choice. Amelia hadn't been given that, even if she was only seven months old and incapable of making any decision other than if she was hungry or not.

I wouldn't be the next person in her life to not see her for the gift she was.

I would never be like them.

So whatever it took, whatever I needed to do, I was keeping this little girl with me and loving her the way she was always supposed to be.

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