They both had nightmares during those first few years. There would be nights I woke to the sound of quiet sobs, and fell asleep again holding their hands.
If anything, it felt like destiny.
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Sometimes I would find them both on the floor beside my bed, blankets wrapped around them like armor.
No part of it was easy, and it only got harder when they started asking questions.
The twins were eight when Eli asked me, “What was our mom like?”
“She loved you,” I replied. That was the truth, or at least the piece of it I chose to believe.
“What about Dad?”
That one was harder.
I never lied. But I never poisoned them either.
“What was our mom like?”
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I would say, “He made choices that hurt a lot of people.”
They deserved better than carrying his sins around like inherited debt.
Years passed the way they do when you are too busy surviving to notice time moving.
Shoes got bigger. Voices changed. They started calling me “mom,” and I worked myself to exhaustion to ensure they had the brightest future possible.
Their walls filled with certificates, team photos, and college brochures. I sat them both down one evening and told them the facts about their mother and father.
They started calling me “mom.”
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They both sat silently for a long time.
“And you took us in anyway?” Jonah asked eventually.
I nodded.
“Didn’t you ever…” Eli trailed off and looked at Jonah.
But he didn’t need his brother to speak for him. I knew my boys well enough to understand what was bothering him.
“You were never responsible for your parents’ choices. And I never wanted you to feel like you were. I took you in because the moment I met you, I felt it was right.” I leaned over and placed my hand over Eli’s. “I love you. It’s that simple.”
He didn’t need his brother to speak for him.
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By the time they were 18, they were good men.
Eli wanted to study engineering. Jonah wanted to go into political science because he liked arguing and, annoyingly, was very good at it.
When the college letters came, they opened them at the kitchen table.
“We did it,” Jonah said.
I laughed, already crying. “No. You did it.”
They both looked at me the same way.
“We,” Eli said quietly.
They were good men.
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I drove them to campus myself.
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