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"Victor, this is Tim," Mrs. Lawson introduces me to a boy with sandy hair and a too-big sweater. "He'll show you around."
She leaves to talk to the new foster parents, and I stand there, lost, until Tim grins and nudges me with his elbow.
"Come on, don't look so glum. You'll get used to it."
As we navigate through the chaos, I muster thecourage to speak what's burning inside me. "I have to get back. The Thompsons—they were going to adopt me."
Tim's laughter is a punch to the gut. "Adopt you? Man, that's over. Clearly they didn't want you. Look at you, you're practically a teenager. Too old for that fairy tale stuff."
The words sting, cruel and sharp. I want to argue,
to claim he's wrong, but doubt creeps in, heavy and suffocating. Maybe he's right. Maybe I was foolish to ever think someone would want me forever.
"Whatever," I mumble, shoving my hands in my pockets, the ache in my chest growing. "Doesn't matter."
But it does. It matters more than anything.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Victor
Present
I stir my coffee slowly, the clink of the spoon against the mug oddly loud in the quiet diner. The steam rises in little wisps, like the memories that refuse to stay buried. I glance across the table at Avery, her eyes fixed on me with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Back then, I wanted to believe Tim was just being a jerk," I say, my voice steady despite the churn of emotions inside me. "But he was right. No family ever made it official. They never adopted me."
Avery reaches out, her hand hovering over mine before she seems to think better of it and pulls back. "Victor, I?—"
"I know what you're gonna say," I interrupt hergently, offering a half-smile. "It's just... when I see you with Olivia, I can't help feeling jealous. You've got something special there. A mother's love is... well, it's everything I missed out on."
She bites her lip, and a tear breaks free, tracing a path down her cheek. I hate that I'm the cause of her sadness.
"Maybe that's why I'm so guarded," I continue, looking past her to the window where the neon 'Open' sign blurs through my own gathering tears. "After getting my hopes up like that, I swore I'd never let myself be that vulnerable again."
"Do you have any friends?" she asks quietly, wiping away the tear with the back of her hand.
"Sure, I do," I reply with a small chuckle, shaking off the melancholy. "Three guys I met in the system. None of us got adopted, so we stuck together. Made our own sort of family."
"Sounds like you had each other, at least."
"Yeah, we did." My gaze settles back on her, and I lean forward slightly. "Olivia's lucky, Avery. You're an amazing mom. And no matter how tough I act, a part of me will always want what she has."
She sniffs, mustering a smile that's both sad and warm. "Thank you, Victor. That means a lot."
The silence stretches between us, thick and heavy. I shuffle in my seat, the leather squeaking underme. "Hey, how about we go skating?" The words tumble out before I can second-guess them.
"Skating?" Avery blinks, surprise lighting up her face. "I... I don't know how."
"Perfect," I say with a quick grin, trying to shake off the weight of our conversation. "I'll teach you."
She hesitates, her eyes wide. "I'd probably just fall on my face."
"Then I'll be there to catch you." Standing up, I throw down some cash for the check. "Come on, it'll be fun."
"Victor, I haven't even—" she starts to protest, but I'm already ushering her out of the booth, her resistance melting like ice in the sun.
"Trust me," I add, giving her a playful nudge towards the door.