She’d walked me through the whole process that afternoon, the waiting period, the paperwork, the eventual court date, explaining each step twice to make sure I actually understood it and wasn’t just nodding politely.
“You’ll need his signature eventually,” she’d said. “Not today. Whenever feels right. Some people wait years for the right moment. Something tells me you already have one in mind.”
I hadn’t told her about the birthday yet, not specifically, but she wasn’t wrong.
Marcus pulled me into a hug right there in the driveway, the kind that lasted longer than either of us probably meant it to.
“I need to think about the signature part,” he said, pulling back. “Not because I don’t want to. Because I want to make sure I do it right, when the time actually comes.”
“Take all the time you need,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
