A few days later, he slid his phone and an adoption brochure across the breakfast table.
“Our house feels empty, Hanna,” he said. “I can’t pretend it doesn’t. We could do this. We could still have a family.”
“Josh, we made peace with it.”
“Maybe you did.” He leaned forward. “Please, Han. Just try one more time with me.”
“And my job?”
“It’ll help if you’re home,” he said quickly. “We’ll have a better chance.”
He’d never begged before. That should have warned me.
“Please, Han. Just try one more time with me.”
A week later, I handed in my notice. The day I came home, Joshua hugged me so tightly I thought he’d never let go.
We spent nights on the couch, filling out forms and prepping for home studies. Joshua was relentless and laser-focused.
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