Chapter 8
1186 Words
Haven’s laughter escaped in soft, uncontrollable bursts as the nail technician worked her way over her feet. The sensation was strange, almost ticklish, and her body instinctively tensed each time the woman’s hands pressed into the arches of her soles. She bit her lip to keep quiet, but another giggle broke free when the woman’s fingers reached her calf.
The stern look the woman shot her made Haven clamp her lips shut, shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress another laugh. She risked a glance at her mom, who was seated beside her in the next chair. Shirley’s lips curved into a smile, and her eyes sparkled as though she was holding back her own laughter.
“You get used to it after a while,” Shirley murmured, her voice warm and knowing.
Haven nodded, cheeks warm with embarrassment. She had never done anything like this before — never had her hair cut in a fancy salon, never picked out a glittery gold polish to match her outfit, never felt this seen.
They’d spent the entire day together, doing what Shirley called a “girls’ day.” Shopping for dresses. Trying on jewelry. Picking accessories. Laughing until their sides ached. It was the kind of day Haven used to read about in books but never thought she’d have for herself.
She stared down at her freshly polished nails, a shimmering gold that matched the delicate earrings and bracelet Shirley had encouraged her to buy. The color popped beautifully against her skin, bright and warm, like a little piece of confidence she could carry with her.
She still didn’t know why Shirley insisted on all this preparation. Some kind of surprise was coming — Haven could feel it. She’d learned enough about Shirley by now to know the woman loved planning little moments to make her feel special. But even with her excitement bubbling under the surface, Haven couldn’t help but wonder if days like this would ever be more than a rare treat.
If Jack and Shirley really adopted her, if all the paperwork finally went through, maybe this would be her life. Maybe “girls’ days” and Christmas decorating and fancy dresses wouldn’t just be special occasions, but normal. The thought both thrilled and terrified her.
And if they didn’t adopt her?
The thought lodged in her chest like a thorn. She’d overheard them talking a few nights ago, murmuring about forms and legal steps that sounded long and complicated. They’d said they wanted to make sure Haven wanted this too — as if her heart hadn’t been screaming yes every single day since she’d moved in.
Yes. She wanted them. She wanted this family.
She hoped they knew.
By the time they left the salon, Haven’s heart was light, but the familiar knot of nervous anticipation began tightening in her stomach. She tried to ignore it as they drove home, tried not to look like she was counting the minutes. But she couldn’t stop herself from squirming slightly in the backseat.
Because today might be the day.
The day Adrian’s next letter finally arrived.
It had been longer than usual, long enough that her chest ached every time she checked the mailbox and found it empty. She told herself not to worry — that maybe he was busy, or his letter had gotten lost — but a darker, insecure voice whispered that he had gotten tired of writing to her. That maybe she’d been too honest about her past, and he’d decided she wasn’t worth the effort anymore.
By the time they pulled into the garage, her pulse was hammering. She dragged her feet, delaying the inevitable, prolonging the moment before she might have to face disappointment again.
“Haven? Can you come inside, please?” Shirley called from the kitchen.
Haven groaned under her breath but obeyed, stepping into the warm, softly lit house. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine from the Christmas candles burning in the living room. She slowed as she passed through, taking in every detail of the decorations.
The towering tree glowed with both white and multicolored lights — a compromise her dad had insisted on when she couldn’t choose between them. Gold, red, and green ornaments sparkled across the branches, and tucked in between them were mismatched ornaments Jack and Shirley had collected over the years.
None of it matched, and it was perfect.
Last Christmas, she had still been shy and quiet, keeping to herself and spending most of her time in her room. But this year she had helped pick every ornament, every string of garland. The house felt like hers too.
She stepped through the archway into the dining room, only to freeze.
Jack and Shirley stood there, identical secretive smiles on their faces. And on the table between them sat a beautifully wrapped gift.
Haven’s heart skipped a beat.
She knew. Before she even touched it, she knew who it was from.
Her hands trembled as she crossed the room. She tore the paper carefully, reverently, as though afraid to ruin what was inside. When she lifted the lid of the box, her breath caught.
It was a music box.
Small, ivory-colored, and etched with delicate gold moons — phases that matched the ones stitched onto her favorite blanket. Tears stung her eyes. How had he known?
Her fingers found the tiny key on the back and wound it slowly. When she opened the lid, soft notes of The Waltz of the Flowers floated through the room, wrapping around her like a warm embrace.
Inside the velvet-lined box rested two envelopes. One read: read me first.
She opened it with careful hands, laying the letter flat against the table as she read.
Wesley’s words felt like sunlight pouring directly into her chest.
He’d gotten her the gift because he wanted to, because she mattered to him, because their friendship mattered to him. He told her not to try to pay him back, not to shy away from accepting something special. All he wanted in return was for her to stay his friend.
By the time she finished, tears were streaming freely down her face.
With shaking hands, she opened the second envelope — and the world tilted on its axis.
Three tickets to The Nutcracker.
For tonight.
Her breath hitched, her vision blurring as she clutched the tickets to her chest. This was more than a gift. This was a dream come true.
Her mom’s arms wrapped around her from the side, grounding her as she whispered, “Sweetheart, there’s no need to cry. Adrian's mom told me how much you mean to him. This was their way of thanking you — of letting you know you changed him too.”
Haven pressed her face into Shirley’s shoulder, the tears now unstoppable.
This house. These people. This boy who had somehow become the most important person in her life, even from miles away.
They were hers.
And tonight, under the glow of Christmas lights and the magic of music, it felt like the rest of her life was just beginning.
- Writer
