The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

100

IT'S MORE OF A BLUR from there.

The only clear thing that lasted forever in my mind was before I handed her off into Bridget's arms. The forever busy street of Los Angeles moved along as we stood before the reliant-looking building of the adoption center. Or at least a part of its facilities and staff buildings.

I felt myself having a hard time letting go of her small body. I rubbed my finger gently around her teeny tiny feet that's wrapped in the blanket. I dipped my head down to smell her powdery baby smell, trying to make myself memorize it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bridget asked, glancing around as people took only a few seconds to look toward us. I was wearing a huge pair of sunglasses and a beanie over my disheveled hair from the basically two day driving. No one would know me, I was sure. And it was the least of my concern anyway.

Even if this whole purpose, a part of it, was because of what people thought; I somehow didn't care right there as different faces lingered on me.

"I think you can raise her, Maeve. You don't have to do this. The press will talk and people will talk, but you have to know that none of that matters when it's your own flesh and blood."

I smiled, and she would believe I was smiling because of Isabella, but I was smiling because of her ignorance. Isabella wasn't mine. That fact shone in my mind, or not shone, rather being forced to my understanding. I have to remember that, I thought to myself, Isabella isn't mine. This is the better choice for Isabella. All of us, Klarise, Mason, Cameron, myself included, we're all the way we are because of our own previous families and each other. But because I'm doing this, Isabella still has a chance.

Sometimes I wonder how I led myself to believe one lie after another that I told my mind day after day.

I shook my head, finally pulling my fingers off of her warm, covered, body. Bridget holds her carefully after I handed her off, and I knew instantly as her warmth left my cold arms that I was not going to get to touch those delicate parts of this human being again. I shook my head, trying to get the weak parts of me out.

But she'll have other, better, people to protect her now.

"You sure you don't want me to drive you back?" Bridget asked, her face a concerned frown as how suddenly dull and dark I must've turned.

"No, I'll go by plane, it's quicker. And plus Klarise—" I stopped myself in time, realizing that she didn't know anything about that. But when I looked her in the eyes, expecting several questions, she only gave me a knowing smile.

So she did know all this time.

"It's okay." She said, and I felt a pang of guilt for some reason. "I want you to be happy, Maeve. Please give yourself that."

I nodded, tilting my face in another direction so she wouldn't see the sad smile I had on for myself.

It was too late for me to possibly have the happiness Bridget was talking about. And that was why, more than anything I suppose, I wanted both Bridget and Isabella to not end up like me.

I started to walk away, already walking halfway toward the Uber I had called ahead of time. Then, one more thing—last thing—stopped me and I ran back for them. My heart pounded with ache.

"Did you change your mind?" She asked as I walked up the staircases toward the sliding glass doors she had started to ascend. I panted, wondering at the same time if I was losing my breath so easily from that short run or because of what was happening inside me that I couldn't quite comprehend.

"No, but," I found myself crying, wiping away the tears.

I took a last good look at Isabella, who was still sleeping soundly. I bit the inside of my mouth to keep me from stroking her face that was soft as the light pelted snow that fell down in the morning after a snowstorm; which I've seen only a few times in my lifetime.