Page 133 of A Chance for Us
He rolls his eyes. “Like I trust any of them.”
I smile and pat his cheek. “She will be fine and so will you.”
Brynn comes running down the stairs, blonde hair flying behind her like a cape. She takes the last four as a jump, causing my heart to falter until she stands with her arms in the air. “I did it.”
“Can we not do that again?” I make my way to her.
Brynn has her father’s personality with my features. It’s a lot of fun for both of us. I look at her, and see myself, but when she talks, all I hear is him. She is funny, smart, and sarcastic at the age of five. All we hear is that it’s only going to get worse.
“I wish I could make that promise, Mama, but you said I can’t lie. It’s a sin.”
Oh for heaven’s sake.
“Nice try.”
Oliver comes over. “How about this, if you do that again, you won’t have the television for a week.”
Her green eyes widen before she clutches her hand to her chest. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you, Daddy? Not for practicing my gymnastics.”
“I would.”
She looks to me. “I was told that I don’t try hard enough, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m practicing.”
“Your teacher did not tell you to leap off the stairs as practice. But I appreciate your effort in trying to sell it.” I boop her on the nose. “Now, go eat your breakfast before the bus comes.”
Brynn rushes off, and Oliver flops onto the couch. “That child is a menace.”
“That child is you.”
He smirks. “Menace.”
“Who you love.”
“With every fiber of my being.”
Brynn is everything to us. She’s truly a miracle. We conceived her naturally, but since then, we haven’t been able to get pregnant. After countless visits to fertility clinics over the years, we finally decided to stop trying. The emotional toll it was taking on us was too great, and we are eternally grateful for the child we do have. Still, I struggle.
Ashton Miller is one of the top infertility specialists in the country and a good friend of mine. She explained it wasn’t anything either of us was doing wrong or even the chemo treatments Oliver had a few years back. It just wasn’t working, even after IVF.
There are days when I swear I can imagine the tiny baby in my arms. I can feel his weight and see his blue eyes that are just like his father’s.
“Hey,” Oliver says, opening his arms, “come here.”
I settle onto his lap, allowing him to once again be my safe harbor, and rest my head on his chest. “How did you know I needed this?”
“Because I know you.”
“I’m a lucky girl.”
“You sure are.”
I snort. “If you do say so yourself?”
“I think both of us are lucky, so there’s that. You know that I love you more every single day, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“And I am completely content with our life. We have everything, Maren. Everything.”
