A Walk Down the Aisle. Holly Jacobs

shrugged. “Maybe partly. Maybe I wanted to find you and find there was something special about me. And maybe I hoped that I’d find someone who understood. Maybe there was some genetic...”

      Sophie filled in the blank. “A mediocrity gene?”

      “It sounds stupid when you say it.” She rubbed the afghan harder.

      “Maybe it is. Here’s how I see it. You are who you are. Part of that is the genes I gave you. Part of that comes from Shawn’s genes. Part of that is the way your parents raised you. And part of that, the biggest part, is you...the essence of you. No amount of genes or environment can change that essence.”

      “So I’m screwed.” Tori slouched even further.

      Sophie might not have ever parented a child, but she’d seen Bridget, and now Mattie, holler at a kid without saying a word. She tried quirking her eyes and frowning at Tori’s totally awful word choice.

      It got the desired result.

      Tori raked her hand through her short blue hair. “Sorry. I am sorry for everything. I didn’t come here to ruin your life, too.”

      “You haven’t ruined my life.” Sophie wanted more than anything to reach out and hug this child she’d fought so hard for. This child she’d thought of every day for fourteen years. This child she loved.

      But she didn’t have the right.

      “Maybe I didn’t ruin your life, but I definitely ruined your wedding.”

      Sophie thought about Colton’s expression when she told him that, yes, she’d had a child. The pain and the accusations there. “Colton loves me, and I love him. We’ll figure it out,” she said with more confidence than she felt. She needed to get back to finding out where Tori’s parents were, and having her call them.

      “It’s just that, I got to town and everything was closed for a wedding, then I got to your house and you weren’t here. This cop stopped and thought I was a guest and that I missed the bus to the wedding. Your wedding. I thought it was a great opportunity to see you without introducing myself, without explaining who I was. So I sat in the back, and then there you were, so beautiful and so happy as you walked down the aisle. And these ladies in front of me whispered that you were perfect, and you and Colton were perfect together. I...”

      “You?” Sophie prompted.

      “I was so angry. How could you be that happy when you gave me away? I was an inconvenience, and you took care of it by getting rid of it. You went on to build this perfect life...without me. I was so mad when the minister started talking and I knew that you were leaving me again. You were going on with your happy life without a thought of me. Then I was standing, objecting...”

      There was so much pain. Not anger like Sophie had thought, but straight-up raw and deep pain. And Sophie knew everything Tori was feeling was her fault. She’d done this. She’d made the best—maybe the only—decision she could. She’d tried to give her daughter everything she’d never had. A nurturing, loving family. And all she’d managed to do was hurt her. “Tori, I’m so sorry—”

      “No, I’m sorry.” Tori had tears in her eyes. “I screwed up your life. Getting rid of me was probably the smartest thing you ever did.”

      “Losing you... I didn’t get rid of you, I didn’t throw you away. I lost you.” Sophie recalled when the doctor said she’d had a baby girl, and how she shouted about wanting to hold her, but her mother had been there, shaking her head. They’d taken Sophie’s baby away, and all she remembered after that was screaming until a nurse gave her a shot of something that knocked her out. Then it was the next day and her baby was gone.

      She’d never held her baby. But she’d had some comfort imagining her baby’s adopted mother holding her. She’d thought about how joyful her baby’s parents must have been after trying for so long to have a baby.

      “How did you lose me?” Tori asked.

      Sophie offered a weak smile, emotions rolling and mixing together into a tsunami of feelings that she couldn’t sort out. “I wanted what was best for you, and best for you wasn’t being raised by a mother who didn’t even have a high school diploma and who had no way of earning enough money to support you. I lost you because I loved you that much. I swear we’ll talk about all of it, but not now. Right now we need to call your parents.”

      “Why don’t you call them my adopted parents? You’re my mother.”

      “No, I am the woman who gave birth to you when I was little more than a girl myself.” That was the moment she stopped being a girl. She’d lived her entire adult life with the pain of not being able to hold her baby, or to keep her, embedded in her soul.

      “They are your parents. They’re the ones who made you feel better when you were little. They’re the ones who know you best. They know your favorite color. They were there your first day of school. They came and comforted you when you had a bad dream.” At least she hoped they’d done all that. Things like that were what she longed for growing up. She had wanted to give the gift of those moments to her daughter.

      Quietly Sophie asked the questions she needed answers to. “Did they ever hurt you?”

      “You mean like hit me or lock me in closets?” Tori shook her head. “No. They love me...or love the me they want me to be. But I’m never going to be a straight-A student. And I’m never going to be an artist or even a vegan. I can’t be. They gave me everything, and I’m still a screwup.”

      “You’re perfect,” Sophie told her.

      Tori snorted.

      “You can’t be what they envision, or even what I envision. And if no one else has ever mentioned it, let me assure you that you shouldn’t try to be what any of us want. You need to be you. And you’re perfect at that...at least you’re perfectly equipped to do that. To be the person you’re meant to be.”

      “So, your day job is writing lyrics for bad country songs?” Tori sniped.

      “I wish someone had said those words to me when I was growing up. Even more, I wish I’d figured that all out when I was still in my teens.”

      Tori didn’t say anything this time. Sophie pushed. “I need your parents’ number.”

      “I won’t go back.”

      There was a stubbornness in Tori’s expression, and Sophie could hear her mother telling her, “I hate it when you look like that. Like you’re almost daring me to try and get you to...”

      The getting-you-to changed. Her mother had tried to get her to do ballet. Sophie had refused after the first few lessons. She’d hated it. If there was a rhythm gene, then she had received the antirhythm variety. There had been other attempts at getting-her-to. Piano. Drawing lessons.

      Which made her think of Tori’s artist father. “You need to call them.”

      “I came here to know you, and I’m not going back yet. I have so many questions, and if you try to get rid of me again, I’ll run away and—”

      “No threats,” Sophie warned. “Don’t say things you might feel obligated to make good on. Legally, I’m nothing to you. They’re your parents, and I guarantee they’re worried.”

      “I—”

      Sophie interrupted again. “No excuses, no threats. The number. We’ll call them and then we’ll work something out. Even if they take you home right away, you’ll go knowing that I love you. That I never gave you away. And that that was the single most painful thing that’s ever happened to me. If your parents do insist that you leave now, then when you’re old enough, you’ll come back and we’ll talk. No matter what, you’ll know you’re loved. Maybe you don’t believe it but, Tori, of all the things you need me to tell you, that’s the most important thing. You were loved. You are loved. You were wanted. You are wanted. And as far as I’m concerned, not knowing anything