She helped with homework.
She knew Lily hated pickles, Brooke hated socks, and Sophie secretly loved old black-and-white movies.
The girls adored her.
So did I.
One night, Rachel and I sat in my truck after dinner.
She stared through the windshield for a long time.
Then she said,
“Do you ever think about us getting married?”
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Rachel…”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I think about it.”
“And?”
I looked toward our apartment.
The girls were upstairs with Mrs. Coleman.
“I barely have enough time to give them what they need.”
Rachel’s eyes filled.
“I’m not asking you to take anything away from them.”
“I know.”
“I’m asking whether you can make room for me too.”
I wanted to say yes.
God, I wanted to.
But the girls had already lost a mother and been abandoned by their father.
I was terrified of making any decision that could destabilize their lives.
