The next evening, we brought Sophie upstairs. She hesitated until Amelia knelt beside her. “Sophie, I’m so sorry I’ve been strict. I was trying too hard to be a good mom and forgot how to just be here for you. Will you let me show you something special?”
Curiosity won. Sophie peeked around me—and gasped. “Is this… is this for me?”
Amelia nodded, eyes glistening. “All of it. And I promise, from now on, we’ll clean your room together. And maybe… maybe we could share some ice cream while we read?”
Sophie stared, then launched into Amelia’s arms. “Thank you, new mommy. I love it.”
“Can we have tea parties up here? With real tea?”
Amelia laughed. “Hot chocolate. And cookies. Lots of cookies.”
Later, as I tucked Sophie into bed, she whispered, “New mom’s not scary. She’s nice.”
I kissed her forehead, my doubts dissolving. Our path to becoming a family wasn’t straight or simple, but maybe that’s what made it real. We were learning together, stumbling sometimes, but always moving forward. Watching Sophie and Amelia curl up in that attic room the next day, sharing ice cream and stories, I knew we’d be okay.
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