He was also the person who helped me survive when Gabriel’s father disappeared from our lives.
Ryan had always shown up for me.
So when he and Melissa sat across from me at their kitchen table and asked if I would carry their baby, I didn’t even let him finish asking.
“Yes.”
Ryan blinked.
“Ivy, you should think—”
“I have.”
Melissa immediately started crying.
They had spent six years trying to become parents.
Two rounds of IVF.
Countless appointments.
And one pregnancy loss at eleven weeks that Melissa never completely recovered from.
I already knew what my answer would be.
I had Gabriel.
I understood the kind of love they were longing for.
If I could help give them that, I wanted to.
During the pregnancy, they attended every appointment.
Melissa carried a notebook and wrote down almost everything the doctor said.
Ryan held my hand during blood draws because I had hated needles since childhood.
They watched every ultrasound with the same mixture of excitement and disbelief.
When we learned the baby was a girl, Melissa rested her hand against my stomach and closed her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Ivy, thank you so much.”
I laughed and told her she needed to stop before she ruined my mascara.
Two months before the due date, they invited me for dinner.
Afterward, Melissa practically pulled me down the hallway to show me the nursery.
The walls were pale green.
