been to come driving into Destiny, opening up a whole new-yet-old life she knew nothing about? Yes, she wanted to be here, she wanted to know these people—but it was turning out to be more overwhelming than she’d ever stopped to envision.
“Oops, wrong,” Rachel said as she opened the door. “It’s Logan.”
It had been Anna who had tossed out the idea of inviting him. Because something about him had made her immediately comfortable. She’d felt drawn to him. And he was cute and nice, two things she valued in a guy.
“Hey,” he said, lifting his hand in a wave across the room.
Anna returned it. Though her smile felt manufactured, nervous. But she was glad to see him anyway.
“I need to get back to the kitchen,” Rachel told them both as the tangy scent of lasagna wafted over the counter that separated the two rooms.
“Need any help?” Logan asked.
Crap. I should have offered to help. But it honestly hadn’t crossed Anna’s mind—too much else occupied it right now.
“No, I’ve got everything taken care of,” Rachel replied.
“Gotcha,” Logan said, then walked over to join Anna on the couch. Sitting down, he quietly asked, “So . . . you doin’ okay?”
She tossed him a nervous sideways glance in reply. “Does it show that I’m not?”
His soft chuckle relaxed her a little, seeming to trickle down her spine like a warm touch. “It’s a lot to deal with, I’m sure.”
She nodded and didn’t even weigh her words as she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
Did his smile hold a hint of flirtation or was that only wishful thinking? “Why’s that?”
“Because you’ll be the only person here whose last name isn’t Romo—or won’t soon be.” Then she got even more honest. “And because I like you.” She’d never been shy.
When the doorbell rang again, this time it was Lucky and Tessa—Anna recognized them from pictures Mike had shown her last night. As she peered over from the couch, her heart rose to her throat.
And then—oh God—she heard Mike’s voice, and then an older woman’s, and realized Mike and her birthparents were here already, too. She sucked in her breath.
That was when Logan reached out to touch her arm. “It’s okay. They’re great people and this is where you belong.”
The words did something to calm her, strengthen her, just as they were intended to. And so Anna steeled herself, pushed to her feet, and knew it was time to meet the rest of her family. This was what she’d come here for, after all. Even if it seemed utterly surreal.
As she made her way to the door, her mother and father walked through it. Everyone else was there, too—Mike, Lucky, their fiancées—but at the moment John and Nancy Romo were really all she could see.
Like her brothers, they looked like her, especially John. Clearly, the Romo genes ran deep. And that’s who I am now. It’s actually who I’ve always been. A Romo . Both of her parents appeared as emotional as she might have expected, their eyes glassy, expressions drawn.
“Oh,” her mother breathed. Her new mother. “Mike said you were beautiful, but . . .” She stepped forward, reached out—yet then stopped. “Is it okay? For me to hug you?”
A lump had risen to Anna’s throat, seizing her voice, so she only nodded. And then Nancy Romo’s arms fell around her in a huge, crushing embrace—more crushing than she’d have thought the small woman capable of. And Anna hugged her back and soon felt her new father join the embrace as well.
Both of them were crying, her new parents, and for Anna, it was one more unreal moment in a long string of them that had begun the night her mother died, the night her mother had said the words she could still hear echoing through her brain. You’re not who you think. You’re not really mine. And now she felt bad because the people holding her were in tears, and they loved her, and they’d missed her for so incredibly long, and she couldn’t return the love they
“Oops, wrong,” Rachel said as she opened the door. “It’s Logan.”
It had been Anna who had tossed out the idea of inviting him. Because something about him had made her immediately comfortable. She’d felt drawn to him. And he was cute and nice, two things she valued in a guy.
“Hey,” he said, lifting his hand in a wave across the room.
Anna returned it. Though her smile felt manufactured, nervous. But she was glad to see him anyway.
“I need to get back to the kitchen,” Rachel told them both as the tangy scent of lasagna wafted over the counter that separated the two rooms.
“Need any help?” Logan asked.
Crap. I should have offered to help. But it honestly hadn’t crossed Anna’s mind—too much else occupied it right now.
“No, I’ve got everything taken care of,” Rachel replied.
“Gotcha,” Logan said, then walked over to join Anna on the couch. Sitting down, he quietly asked, “So . . . you doin’ okay?”
She tossed him a nervous sideways glance in reply. “Does it show that I’m not?”
His soft chuckle relaxed her a little, seeming to trickle down her spine like a warm touch. “It’s a lot to deal with, I’m sure.”
She nodded and didn’t even weigh her words as she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
Did his smile hold a hint of flirtation or was that only wishful thinking? “Why’s that?”
“Because you’ll be the only person here whose last name isn’t Romo—or won’t soon be.” Then she got even more honest. “And because I like you.” She’d never been shy.
When the doorbell rang again, this time it was Lucky and Tessa—Anna recognized them from pictures Mike had shown her last night. As she peered over from the couch, her heart rose to her throat.
And then—oh God—she heard Mike’s voice, and then an older woman’s, and realized Mike and her birthparents were here already, too. She sucked in her breath.
That was when Logan reached out to touch her arm. “It’s okay. They’re great people and this is where you belong.”
The words did something to calm her, strengthen her, just as they were intended to. And so Anna steeled herself, pushed to her feet, and knew it was time to meet the rest of her family. This was what she’d come here for, after all. Even if it seemed utterly surreal.
As she made her way to the door, her mother and father walked through it. Everyone else was there, too—Mike, Lucky, their fiancées—but at the moment John and Nancy Romo were really all she could see.
Like her brothers, they looked like her, especially John. Clearly, the Romo genes ran deep. And that’s who I am now. It’s actually who I’ve always been. A Romo . Both of her parents appeared as emotional as she might have expected, their eyes glassy, expressions drawn.
“Oh,” her mother breathed. Her new mother. “Mike said you were beautiful, but . . .” She stepped forward, reached out—yet then stopped. “Is it okay? For me to hug you?”
A lump had risen to Anna’s throat, seizing her voice, so she only nodded. And then Nancy Romo’s arms fell around her in a huge, crushing embrace—more crushing than she’d have thought the small woman capable of. And Anna hugged her back and soon felt her new father join the embrace as well.
Both of them were crying, her new parents, and for Anna, it was one more unreal moment in a long string of them that had begun the night her mother died, the night her mother had said the words she could still hear echoing through her brain. You’re not who you think. You’re not really mine. And now she felt bad because the people holding her were in tears, and they loved her, and they’d missed her for so incredibly long, and she couldn’t return the love they
Similar Books
