Friends with Benefits - Nicole Blanchard Page 0,64

I was afraid you’d walk away if I pushed, and I know what I stand to lose, but one of our rules is honesty, and I will always be honest with you.” My heart began to thud heavily in my chest. His blue-grey eyes bore into mine, and he took both of my hands in his. “I love you, Ember. I’ve loved you for years. I think you’ve known for a while now. Your girls are like my family. You are like my family. The only thing I want is to make you happy. Whether that’s as your boyfriend or, in the future, as your husband. I want to do this with you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I love you, too, Tripp. I was just too scared to say it. I want to be with you, too. Friends and benefits and all.”

“Then, c’mon, because Mom and I have a surprise for you.”

Another surprise? I didn’t think my emotions could take more happiness, but I followed him inside. Molly and Tillie were building an intricate structure out of Legos with Tripp’s father. We waved as Tripp pulled me into the kitchen, where his mother was baking something that smelled divine.

He gave his mom a kiss. “I told her we had a surprise for her.”

“Did you?” his mom said with a smile. “Well, I’d rather not keep you in suspense. Tripp’s father and I were talking, and we’d like to help you get custody of the girls. We know a family lawyer who is willing to help, and we’d like to pay their retainer.”

My mouth dropped open. I could barely breathe. “You can’t be serious.”

Tripp’s mother smiled. “Totally serious. We want to do this for you, and you know we adore the girls.”

“It’s—it’s too much. I can’t accept it. Thank you, but I can’t.”

“I told you she’d say that,” Tripp said to his mother. “We’ve been working on her accepting help from others, but she’s hardheaded.”

I smacked his arm. “It’s too much,” I repeated, unable to form coherent words. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

Things like this simply didn’t happen to me. I wasn’t a perpetual victim, but life had always been hard. I’d always had to fight for everything I wanted. Fight my parents to take care of me simply to survive. Fight them to go to school, then college. Fight them to do what was best for the girls. To have someone be so effortlessly generous...it simply didn’t compute. Was that why I’d given Tripp such a hard time for so long?

“Say you’ll at least think about it. We want to do this for you. If it makes you feel any better, you can consider it a loan and pay us back when you’re able, but you don’t have to.”

Mrs. Wilder punctuated her offer with a soft smile. Her salt-and-pepper hair was as perfect as ever, falling to her shoulders in a sleek, straight cascade. She looked as opposite of my mother as possible, and I ached for the loss of not having someone like her in my life—in the twins’ lives. Would I be depriving them of a mother like Mrs. Wilder if I did pursue custody? I had to admit, even if it was only to myself, the worry plagued me.

“I’ll think about it,” I told them, and they shared a smile. “I’ll have to talk to the girls because I think they should have a say.”

“Whatever you think is best, angel. We only want to help,” Tripp said.

Mrs. Wilder organized a consultation with a family attorney the following week. I switched shifts with another EMT so I could have a couple of days as a buffer to focus my thoughts. Butterflies took up permanent residence in my stomach, and they dove and swooped so often and so violently that I thought my ribs would crack from the pressure.

I was scared.

Ever since my parents had disappeared, I’d been running on instinct and fumes. Tripp had helped to distract me from the true force of my worries, but I couldn’t hide from my problems forever. And the twins deserved to have normalcy and security in their lives now more than ever. If I was so adamant that they have both, then I needed to put on my big girl panties and face it.

I wouldn’t become my mother. And the twins hadn’t hesitated in saying they wanted me to be their guardian when I talked to them about it.

That was the driving force behind agreeing to let Mr. and Mrs. Wilder front the retainer for