Chapter 18 - THE EMPTY CHAIR
Maya and Leo returned to their mother on a cold Tuesday.
Their mother, Jasmine, cried when she thanked us.
Sophie hugged her.
I shook her hand.
Then Leo ran back and wrapped himself around my leg.
I almost lost it.
Sophie did.
We watched the car leave.
The house became unbearably quiet.
That night, we ate cereal for dinner.
Sophie sat on the kitchen counter.
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“It hurts.”
“Yes.”
She leaned against me.
“Maybe hurting isn’t always proof something went wrong.”
I looked at her.
“Therapy has made you annoying.”
“Very.”
Two months later, Jasmine sent a photograph.
Maya had lost a front tooth.
Leo was holding a frog.
They looked safe.
That was enough.
We continued fostering.
Some children stayed a weekend.
Some stayed months.
We learned not every goodbye was tragedy.
Sometimes goodbye meant a family had healed enough to try again.
Sophie returned to work.
I accepted a new Army position that required less travel.
Not because my career no longer mattered.
Because I finally understood choosing was not the same as surrendering.
At Sophie’s two-year oncology appointment, Dr. Morris smiled before she spoke.
“No evidence of disease.”
Sophie exhaled.
I closed my eyes.
Then she nudged me.
“You’re allowed to smile.”
I did.
Outside the hospital, we passed the hallway where I had found her.
Same windows.
Same pale floor.
Different people.
Sophie stopped.
“That cushion was there.”
“What?”
“The stupid hallway cushion.”
I looked.
It was gone.
She laughed.
“I hated that thing.”
I took her hand.
“Best wrong turn I ever made.”
She squeezed mine.
“Don’t get sentimental.”
“Too late.”
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
A social worker.
There was a newborn at the county hospital who might need a long-term placement.
Sophie and I looked at each other.
Neither of us said yes immediately.
May you like
That was how I knew we were ready to think.
