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When Amanda’s office door creaked open to reveal her husband, she smiled.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him somewhat rhetorically. They hadn’t decided what they were going to do with their evening: Amanda had just finished her late class and Sonny had been tangled up at SVU with Liv, but less than an hour before he had appeared at Fordham he had texted her that they had been able to wrap things up. Sienna was still with the girls - and would be for a few more hours - so it was precious time they could spend alone together.
Amanda knew about Sonny’s case; she was the first person he told when he felt like something was amiss with Pence Humphreys. They were making dinner - well, Sonny was, and she was setting the table which she asserted was still a crucial part of the process - and he had had that look on his face that meant something was on his mind. It was his heart, really, that was weighing him down, and Amanda couldn’t say she was surprised. He was staunch in his beliefs about love. He had a deep reverence for people who took their relationships and commitments seriously. She used to label his thinking as ‘old-fashioned,’ but she had come to understand it as maturity.
Go to Liv, Amanda had implored him, she trusts your judgement.
He had - and then he was running around the city with their old Captain like he still had a gun and shield, fiercely advocating for a man whose mind was failing him but heart was not.
Sonny sank heavily into one of the chairs in front of her desk and smirked. “I need extra help.”
“I’ll say,” she teased him. She got up from her seat and perched herself on the edge of the front of her desk so they could face one another. Her eyes scanned Sonny’s features and she reached over to squeeze his knee. “You alright, counselor? Or should I call you ‘detective’ again?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He looked sheepish. “And - no. Let’s stick with ‘counselor.’ Or, better yet, just call me your husband.”
Amanda nodded. “Will do.”
He thrummed his fingers against the arms of the chair and wondered, “what d’you think we’ll be doin’ in forty years?”
She gestured loosely between them and grinned. “This, but wrinklier.”
Sonny looked thoughtful as he studied her standing before him. After a moment of contemplation, he told her rather matter-of-factly: “I wouldn’t wanna live without you.”
“Statistically, men tend to die-“
He grimaced and held up a hand to interrupt her: “Rollins, please.”
She couldn’t help the impulsive response - she loved data. She leaned over, tugged at the lapel of his peacoat and kissed him. “You’re never gettin’ rid of me,” she murmured. “Even in death, I’ll haunt your ass.”
“I believe that,” Sonny laughed against her lips. A hand carded through her hair, pushing it away from her face. “Lemme take you to dinner,” he offered. “You pick.”
She pulled back and waggled her eyebrows at him flirtatiously. “It’s my lucky day.” She straightened up onto her feet. “I want a cheeseburger,” she concluded.
Sonny rose to his feet. “Cheeseburgers it is.”
Amanda made quick work of closing her laptop, shrugging on her big green jacket and gathering her things. The department was relatively empty now, save for one or two professors who had later lectures like she did. She and Sonny made their way out into the main hallway without interruption, side-by-side as they waited for an elevator to bring them back down to the lobby.
In the quiet of the elevator, Amanda replayed the conversation they had just had. She considered what her life would be like void of their relationship; it felt so hard to do, it was almost as if her brain short-circuited as she attempted it. Sonny was a part of everything, woven into the very fabric of her being, and to erase him would mean to erase pieces of herself - some of the pieces she was the most proud of. A little shudder of dread rolled through her. She looked up at him: he was staring idly at the ceiling. “Sonny?”
His blue eyes flickered down to hers. “Hm?”
“I couldn’t live without you.” Maybe Amanda didn’t mean it in the literal sense - her body would continue to exist even if Sonny’s didn’t - but she would be merely surviving, not living, if he wasn’t right there beside her as her partner.
Sonny extended an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
“You knew that already, didn’t you?” she guessed.
“I mighta had a feeling, Mrs. Carisi.” Amanda could hear the smile in his voice.
xxx
“Are you looking, Aunt Olivia?”
Billie held up her book featuring Sparky the Lazy Sloth, reminding both her godmother and her mother that she was still there, sitting on the floor at the coffee table, ready to accept attention. Amanda and Liv were settled on Amanda and Sonny’s couch that Saturday afternoon, each of them leisurely sipping glasses of red wine. Sonny had taken Jesse and Noah to the YMCA hours ago, leaving the two women alone with Billie, who had no interest in going. She had announced very loudly that she preferred to stay close to Liv and Amanda. It was Liv’s first time in the new apartment, so Billie helped provide a tour, mostly focused on where snacks were kept and the names of her various – and innumerable - stuffed animals, but if anybody was patient and tolerant, it was Olivia Benson.
Snapping to attention with wide eyes and a grin, Liv assured Billie, “of course I am!”
“Your eyeballs aren’t over here,” Billie observed coolly, setting the book down on the table and turning the page.
“You’re gonna make a great detective one day,” Liv chuckled.
Amanda watched her youngest daughter re-engage herself in her book, then looked at Liv over the rim of her wine glass. “So,” she said, “what’s been goin’ on?”
Liv readjusted herself against the corner of the couch and raised her eyebrows. “I know what you’re asking.”
She wasn’t going to pretend: she was curious about Stabler. They had avoided the subject all afternoon, talking about work and children and blah blah blah, and she was getting itchy for information. “And?”
Liv heaved a sigh and her eyes flitted away from Amanda’s, focused on a spot somewhere over the younger woman’s shoulder. “If it doesn’t work out…”
“But what if it does?” Amanda blurted. She was becoming one of those people now – the kind that wanted the ones they loved to share in the happiness they themselves had found. She used to think that was infuriating, but now she understood where it came from, this desperation to see those you cared for, cared for, too.
“But if it doesn’t, I feel like the damage will be irreparable.” Her gaze found Amanda’s again; she lost some of her stoicism and looked almost pained.
“You don’t know that,” she said quietly, scooting a little closer to Liv on the couch. She chewed on her lower lip, thoughtful. “Look, I’m no expert,” she admitted, as if that wasn’t already abundantly clear by her tumultuous romantic history. “I just know that when Carisi and I got together, I was scared as hell, too. I knew when I kissed him-“
“You kissed him?” Liv raised her eyebrows.
Amanda gave her a genuine look of skepticism. “That surprises you?”
Liv considered it for a moment, then smiled. “No, not really, I guess.”
“I knew when I kissed him it would change things forever,” she continued, “but I would rather face that unknown than hangin’ out in purgatory, all this stuff unsaid between us all the time.”
“What if he had rejected you?”
“Easy. I would have shot him,” Amanda joked, then shook her head and really thought about Liv’s question. At the time she was so high on emotion, it was probably a blessing that she hadn’t been able to think it all through. “I dunno. It woulda stung, but at least I would have finally known how he felt about me, about us. We would have had to move on as colleagues and yeah, maybe things wouldn’t have been the same, but… all relationships are living, breathing things. They are always gonna be evolving, shifting…”
Amanda watched Liv, watching her. Her old Captain seemed as if she was hearing her. If she was reading her facial expression correctly, maybe she was even a little impressed by how far Amanda had come in terms of understanding love. Still, Liv only nodded and took a sip of her wine.
“You and I both know way too well how fleeting life is,” Amanda reminded her softly. “Stabler’s telling you something - a lotta things. Why not give yourself a shot at something really good, Liv?”
“Excuse me,” Billie said suddenly, politely, from her spot on the floor.
Both women turned their attention to the four-year-old.
“Yes, Billie,” Amanda answered her daughter with a sigh.
“You’re talking about kissing,” she observed astutely.
Amanda cringed. “We were, yeah.”
Billie looked at Liv. “Mommy and daddy kiss. That’s because they love each other.”
Amanda felt her face begin to burn with embarrassment. “Yes, Billie, thank you,” she said quickly, eyes narrowed on her daughter in a way that hopefully communicated stop talking immediately. All she needed was her daughter launching into a speech that started with sometimes mommy and daddy lock their bedroom door… “That’s enough.”
Billie barreled ahead, eyes on Liv: “Aunt Olivia, have you kissed somebody?”
Liv’s eyes widened at the question and thankfully, her face was bright with amusement at how precocious her goddaughter was.
“Billie, you can’t just ask people that,” Amanda chastised her.
Billie scrunched up her nose in confusion. “How come?”
“Because it’s private,” she explained gently. “Not everyone feels comfortable talkin’ about that sorta stuff.”
Amanda’s youngest daughter looked thoughtful, then confessed with the utmost innocence, “I just wanted to know if she loved somebody, like you love daddy.”
xxx
“She is out of control!” Al exploded at the round mahogany table in Trevor Langan’s Park Avenue office, finger pointed menacingly at Amanda seated across from him.
Amanda blinked at him, arms folded across her chest. “You used to love that about me, Al,” she simpered, a smirk on her face. She knew her response was provocative - and it likely wasn’t doing much to bolster her character - but she couldn’t help it.
He started to rise from his chair, red-faced. “You are way-“
“Okay, okay, enough,” Langan interrupted. “Amanda acknowledges she was out of line the other day. Your client was as well, though.”
“There’s no restraining order,” Al’s attorney pointed out coolly from the seat next to him.
“No, but we all know the agreement was that we’re only communicating about this matter via lawyers,” Langan reminded them both. “Your client deliberately sought out my clients’ new address in hopes of making some kind of backdoor deal.”
Al looked over at his lawyer, seething. “These two are going to try to pull every one of their strings to get my daughter-“
“Our 'strings?’ Give me a break,” Sonny scoffed with disgust, seated in between Amanda and Langan. “Do you have something meaningful to say or can we get back to the actual facts here?”
Al and his lawyer exchanged a wordless glance.
Langan took it upon himself to continue with their meeting after a moment of terse silence: “All of Amanda and Dominick’s background information has been gathered, along with Billie’s health and school reports…” He sifted through the file folder he had in front of him. “The social worker informed me that all of the interviews and home studies have been done-“
“That was an incredible inconvenience, by the way,” Al snapped. “Do you know how busy I am?”
“You think my wife and I are just sittin’ at home eatin’ bon-bons every day?” Sonny challenged him crassly; Amanda smirked again.
“This meeting is a courtesy,” Langan reminded Al. “It’s your last chance before the hearing to change your mind.“
“I’m not changing my mind,” Al barked.
Amanda wanted to scream in frustration, but instead she pulled in a deep breath and kept her voice level. “Al…”
“That’s all there is to it, then,” Langan concluded coolly, effectively interrupting Amanda and preventing what was likely the start of another argument. He started gathering up paperwork. “We’ll see you at the hearing.”
She didn’t protest. She had done enough talking, she had figured. Quietly, she put her coat back on and slung her bag over her shoulder, following Langan out of the room with Sonny trailing behind her.
“Wait. Hold up, hold on a second,” Sonny said abruptly. He turned back around and stood in the doorway of the conference room. His eyes narrowed on Al, who was shrugging on his jacket. “Do you have any idea what being a parent actually requires?” Sonny demanded of him vehemently. “The time, the sacrifice? The… emotional energy, ‘cause your whole world shrinks down to their existence when they’re sad or sick or, or when they learn to do something new and they are so excited to tell you? No. You don’t have a damn clue.”
The breath left Amanda’s lungs at how impassioned Sonny’s words were, but the silence that followed was deafening: Al only blinked in response.
Amanda slid her hand into Sonny’s and squeezed his fingers in solidarity - but she was also urging him to leave. “C’mon, baby,” she murmured. “He’s not worth it. Never has been.”
xxx
Staying late to take questions after her cybersecurity presentation meant that Amanda didn’t creep through the door until nine o’clock. The apartment was quiet, dark except for a light in the kitchen left on presumably for her. She toed her boots off in the entry way, hung up her coat and purse, shed her blazer, then made her way down the hallway - but a glow from the living room caught her eye. She paused to peer inside: Sonny was asleep sitting up on the couch, Billie draped over his lap in her pajamas. She was asleep, too, her head against his shoulder, her thumb just about falling out of her mouth. The television illuminated them – The Disney Channel was shining bright and colorful - but the volume was turned down low. Frannie occupied the arm chair and was eyeing her lazily through her paws.
Smiling, Amanda tip-toed over to the couch. Gentle fingers grazed Sonny’s warm cheek as she whispered, “hey, sleepyhead.”
Sonny’s eyes twitched in response to her touch before he seemingly blinked her into focus. “Hm? I’m awake,” he husked drowsily. Without moving his body, he looked down at Billie asleep on his lap and let out a grunt of surprise.
“Shh. Don’t move,” Amanda urged him quietly. She very gently pulled Billie off of Sonny’s frame, her little limbs slack and her cherubic features rosy, and held her close to her own body. It was a maneuver she had spent years practicing - extracting one of her children from a situation without waking them up - and she felt a little tug of sadness when she realized soon both girls would be too big for her to carry off to bed.
“Mommy?” Billie mumbled into her shoulder just as Amanda had the girls’ bedroom doorway was in sight.
Amanda’s nose crinkled. So close. “Yes, baby.”
“Love you,” she murmured.
There was nothing quite like unprompted affection from your child. Her heart squeezed at the words coming from her four-year-old’s small, tired voice. “I love you,” Amanda whispered back into her hair. “See you in the morning.”
Jesse and Billie’s bedroom was illuminated only by a butterfly-shaped nightlight that glowed in one corner. Amanda slipped into the space, maneuvering over toys discarded precariously on the floor, and carefully tucked Billie beneath her blankets. The four-year-old left her arms easily; she immediately rolled away from her and reached for her stuffed animal. Amanda then drifted over to Jesse’s bed, spending a moment watching the seven-year-old sleep peacefully before leaning down and placing a careful kiss against the side of her head. On her way back out of the door, she spied the basketball sitting on the floor at the end of Jesse’s bed and smiled.
Back in the living room, she found Sonny looking bleary-eyed. She sunk down next to him on the couch and curled up close to his side. “She never made it to bed?” she guessed.
“She did. Then she came back out and we were watchin’ Finding Nemo…” Sonny confessed.
“It’s a school night,” Amanda chastised him, but the adoration in her eyes gave her real feelings away.
“Yeah, I know. Didn’t have the heart to say no.” He tilted his head so their lips could meet, slow and lazy, followed by a couple of quicker kisses. He gave her a lopsided grin when they separated. “How’d it go tonight?”
“Great,” she breathed, an excited smile flickering across her face as she recalled the past few hours. “I mean, they are studying really high-level stuff - way over my head - but they seemed pretty interested.”
“You give away all our secrets?” Sonny teased.
“Mm.” She stretched her legs across his lap and let her head rest on his shoulder. She breathed in the familiar smell of his cologne mixed with their laundry detergent and let her muscles relax; she was glad to be home. Her eyes flickered up to Sonny’s strong profile and she frowned when she saw apprehension set in his features. She knew why: she was feeling it, too, masked temporarily by her obligations that evening. She set a palm against his abdomen and wriggled her fingers against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. “Worried about the hearing tomorrow?”
Sonny slid his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to sink deeper into his side, and rested a palm on her kneecap. “Yeah.”
“Me too,” Amanda agreed softly.
“That social worker liked me,” he mused, a grin tugging at a corner of his mouth.
Amanda laughed. “A little too much, in my opinion.” The social worker who had been sent to their apartment for the court-ordered home study had been barely twenty-five years old – and very obviously enamored with Sonny. Amanda figured he could have told her he was a paroled serial murderer with a collection of body parts in the freezer and she would have happily approved him with flying colors. Meanwhile, she interrogated Amanda about the details of her upbringing and her preferred parenting style for the better part of an hour - and concluded their conversation looking skeptical.
“Hey, I’m workin’ every angle I can,” Sonny chuckled.
“Oh, she saw your angles alright.” Amanda rolled her eyes. She watched the amusement fade from Sonny’s eyes and he looked solemn again. She sat up straighter so she could see him better, then reached over with gentle fingers to turn his face toward her. “If my mother was here, she’d tell you not to make that face, all worried about wrinkles.”
He gave her a wry smile, then heaved a sigh. “Why is he fightin’ this so hard, Amanda? Don’t you wonder? What’s he tryin’ to prove?”
Amanda released an audible exhale. “For a split-second I thought maybe he felt some kinda regret…” she admitted. She felt embarrassed by that notion now. “But I think this is just who he is. Somebody who’s gotta win all of the time.”
Sonny nodded wordlessly.
“Whatever happens, Sonny, you’re her daddy,” Amanda reminded him. “Nothing is going to change that.”
“I know, I know.” He scrubbed a palm over his face before letting it drop to his lap. “Bein’ a parent, it’s what you do, how you behave, not biology, I get it, I just…” He glanced over at her, frustration still etched into his brow. “I want us to be a family in every sense. I don’t wanna take Billie - or Jesse - to the dentist and have to sign six different pieces of paper because she’s got a different last name than me, and she’s not ‘really’ my kid so they still need to talk to you anyway.”
Amanda covered his hand with hers. “You’ve always been all in,” she acknowledged in a whisper.
“You and the girls, you don’t deserve anything less,” Sonny told her firmly.
Affection - and appreciation - warmed Amanda’s chest. “I want you to have the recognition, as their dad, officially,” she asserted. “I know you’re not in it for that, but I want it for you.”
“I’m proud of them both.” He looked contemplative as he added, “I wouldn’t mind if everybody knew that.”
xxx
It was hardly Amanda’s first time in front of a judge, but that morning, she felt like she was going to vomit. Lafayette Street wasn’t a place she went to very often when she worked at SVU. She remembered being there years ago in hopes of gaining temporary custody of Mason, but that situation felt so far away now. Back then, she had had sympathy - even held onto judgement - for the mothers and fathers that sifted in and out of the courtroom. Now she was one of them.
Standing beside Sonny and Langan in her most angelic white silk blouse, she tried not to fidget. Al’s lawyer was present on the other side of the room, but Al had yet to appear, and she kept looking over her shoulder at the door. She was waiting for him to bust in all breathless and harried, spewing some nonsense about being paged or called into emergency surgery so he looked the part of a hero. Sonny kept subtly checking his watch, jaw set firmly, but he had yet to say anything about Al’s absence.
“Where’s your client, Ms. Maloney?” Judge Perez addressed Al’s attorney from the bench, appearing irritated.
“I’m not quite sure, Your Honor,” Maloney admitted, glancing down at her phone. “I haven’t heard from him this morning.”
Amanda and Sonny exchanged confused glances.
Perez turned her attention to Langan and sighed. “He was made aware of this hearing, was he not?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Langan assured her. “In person and via certified mail.”
“I’ll give him five more minutes,” Judge Perez decided.
“Then what?” Amanda hissed in Sonny and Langan’s direction.
“We go on without him,” Langan muttered.
Sonny crossed his arms over his chest. “I hope this doesn’t end up in a continuance…”
Amanda’s stomach lurched at the thought. How long could this be dragged out for? Was that all part of Al’s plan? Was he at home, leisurely sipping an espresso, laughing at the thought of them standing there like morons? She gnawed at her lower lip as she looked down at her own watch - how many minutes had passed so far? Her mind drifted to Fordham: her teaching assistant was minding her class that morning and she wondered how she would return to work like a normal, functioning human being if all of this went sour.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Maloney, but we need to move forward,” Judge Perez said after another agonizing minute. She thumbed through the paperwork in front of her and peered down her nose through her glasses at Amanda, Sonny and Langan. “Mrs. Carisi, I see here that Mr. Pollack has not performed parental duties for a period of approximately four years, is that correct?”
Amanda swallowed over the nausea that was constricting her throat. Shoulders back and chin up, she nodded. “Yes, Your Honor.”
The judge nodded, facial expression neutral and unreadable. “And he’s not here today.”
“Your Honor,” Ms. Maloney interjected anxiously, “if I could just try-“
“Given Mr. Pollack’s extended absence from his daughter’s life and his failure to appear in court today,” Judge Perez interrupted her loudly, “as well as the evidence provided to me from Child and Family Services, I am going to grant the petition to terminate Mr. Pollack’s parental rights.” She flipped the file folder shut breezily. “Mr. Langan, your clients may move forward with an adoption hearing in thirty days.”
Amanda felt all her blood rush to her head, momentarily drowning out any other sound in the room, leaving all of her extremities tingling and useless. Unsure she had heard the judge correctly, Amanda looked around to get her bearings with wide, disbelieving eyes: Sonny was grinning, Langan looked satisfied. Al’s attorney was texting furiously.
“That’s, that’s it?” Amanda stammered. “He just - it’s done?”
“It’s done,” Langan said simply.
Amanda met Sonny’s eyes; he nodded to give her the extra reassurance she was looking for. She didn’t know if it was appropriate - she didn’t care - she reached for him for a hug. He held her close to his body, his cheek against the side of her head, neither of them saying anything. She closed her eyes, allowing relief to wash over her. All of the turmoil that had poisoned the months prior had been worth it: twenty-five minutes in a dingy court room to erase one relationship in order to make room for another one. Perpetually curious, Amanda wondered where Al was, what the hell he was thinking - but none of that was more important than what his absence allowed for she, Sonny and their family.
Their family, which could finally be official a mere month from now.
xxx
Amanda and Sonny sat side-by-side on their couch on a rainy Saturday morning, waiting for the girls to scamper into the living room. The night before, laying tangled in the dark in bed together, they had decided to talk to Billie and Jesse about moving forward with adoption. It had been a week since the hearing and the ink was dry on the court order; both of them hadn’t felt like it was real until they had seen the document with their own eyes.
She anxiously picked at fabric of her sweatpants as she waited for Jesse and Billie to appear. Sonny didn’t look worried: he was relaxed into the corner of the sectional, his usual, Saturday-morning self: rumpled t-shirt, mussed hair, a shadow of stubble across his jaw. He was already on his second cup of coffee, where she had barely touched her first. They had waited for this moment for so long, but now that it was here, she felt afraid. Maybe it wouldn’t play out as joyfully as she had imagined it in her head. Maybe she would have to be one of those parents with kids in therapy. Maybe-
When Jesse slunk into the living room, she looked guilty. “Mama, I spilled a little nail polish in our room…” When she got closer to Amanda, she noticed that the seven-year-old's fingers were very sloppily painted a glittery shade of purple - a color Amanda definitely did not own.
Amanda raised her eyebrows. “Where did you get that?”
Jesse bounced against the couch cushions as she took a seat. “Cousin Mia.”
“Can you paint mine, Jesse?” Billie asked excitedly, crowding her sister’s side on the couch.
Jesse scrunched up her nose in silent protest.
“How about I help you with both of yours later?” Amanda negotiated. “Right now we wanna talk to you about something really important."
“Breakfast?” Billie wondered hopefully. She rubbed at her eyes and pushed her messy hair away from her face, causing it to stick up in all different directions. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Sonny chuckled. “We’re gonna have breakfast soon, I promise.”
Amanda pulled in a deep breath to steady herself. Looking into the expectant eyes of her two daughters, she felt a ripple of nervousness run through her again. “So, you know how we’ve talked to you both about how different dads helped make you, but your dad chose you?” Amanda said, setting a hand on Sonny’s knee.
“Uh huh,” Billie nodded. Jesse picked some nail polish off of her fingers, distracted.
Sonny leaned forward and gave Jesse’s pajama-clad knee a poke, eyes glinting with his smile. “We were thinkin’ it would be a good idea if all four of us could finally have the same last name, so everybody knows that.”
Jesse perked up, eyes widening as she began to understand what Amanda and Sonny were getting at. “You’re gonna adopt us, like you said?”
“Only if you and your sister say ‘yes,’” he told her.
Amanda watched in horror as Jesse’s face reddened, then crumpled: the seven-year-old started to cry.
“Jesse, what - why are you crying?” Amanda asked her eldest daughter frantically. Here comes the therapy bill.
“I’m just h-happy,” Jesse hiccuped through her tears as she tried to sloppily wipe her eyes and nose. She took a great, shuddering breath, looking just as confused as her mother by her own reaction. “I’m happy. I w-wanna do it.”
Sonny quickly reached over to pull Jesse into his arms and she went easily, allowing him to wrap her up in a hug in his lap.
“It’s okay, Jesse,” Billie told her, her voice light and sweet as if she was mimicking how she heard Amanda speak in past moments of distress. She delicately patted her sister’s back in an effort to comfort her. “Everybody loves you.”
Amanda felt tears stinging her own eyes and she couldn’t help but let them fall despite her typical desire to appear strong for her children. In that moment, she knew better: her strength was in her total humanness. She was overwhelmed with relief, but also with immense affection for her daughters and her husband. She sat motionless, paralyzed with amazement as she watched Sonny pull Billie into his embrace, too.
“Oh, man, now your mother’s cryin’,” Sonny laughed, although his words were catching in his throat, letting Amanda know that he was also overcome with emotion. He stretched an arm over Amanda's shoulders and tugged her close, so now all three of them were being hugged by him as best as he could with his available limbs.
“I’m happy, too,” Amanda promised them all, voice tremulous with the effort it was requiring not to full-on sob. She leaned in and dropped kisses on Jesse and Billie’s heads, then tilted her chin up to catch Sonny’s mouth with hers. “I love you.”
He returned her kiss to her lips, then planted one on her forehead. “I love you.” He glanced down at the two little girls clinging to his body. “And I love you both, alright?”
“I know,” Billie told him confidently, standing tucked beneath his arm. She beamed up at him. “I always knew.”
Sonny quirked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, because you showed me,” she answered simply - and, in Amanda’s opinion, somewhat profoundly - then added, “you do all the good voices in stories. You, um, you let me draw on all your papers. And you make me food mommy doesn’t know how to.”
“It’s true, mom,” Jesse agreed solemnly, head lolled against Sonny’s shoulder but eyes on Amanda. “You’re really bad at cooking.”
Amanda met Sonny’s gaze and let out a laugh, unable to contain her amusement at her daughters’ brutal honesty - all of it wrapped up in their appreciation for the man they had come to know as their father. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got a dad who knows how to feed you,” she sniffled, wiping the tears off of her cheeks.
“We’re really lucky,” Jesse said, and from the way she was clinging to Sonny, Amanda knew that her astute seven-year-old wasn’t only referencing home-cooked dinners.
Amanda let out the breath she felt like she had been holding for years. “We certainly are.”