One Last Time (COMPLETED)

Epilogue

The second Michaela stepped out from Amaya's bedroom, my heart stopped. Though the last seventeen years I'd seen hints of Maya in both my niece and nephew, the resemblance tonight was uncanny. Amaya, leaning against the wall outside her bedroom, eyed me worriedly, mirroring the look that was constantly lingering in her father's eyes.

"What?" Mickey asked, running her hand down the crystal blue dress, blue eyes wide. "Do I look horrible? May, you said I looked gorgeous!"

My fifteen year old rolled her eyes at her cousin's outburst and waved her hand dismissively. "You do. Mom's just being a mom and crying over every dumb high school milestone."

Damn right I was. Because I was getting to experience watching my sister's kids become incredible young adults who she would have been proud of.

"Oh shit, she's about to cry." Trev draped his arms over Amaya's shoulders with a crooked smile. Though both my children were spitting images of their father, Trev had inherited mine and Maya's smile and Amaya had been blessed with gorgeous blue-green eyes that popped against her warm brown skin. "Someone call Dad!"

I shot him a pointed look, but he winked and whispered something to Amaya. Max decided to step out of his bedroom and join the commotion. Though he had our small, sharp features, Max favored his father in his build. His hair was also about as long as Nixon's and was tied back in a man bun as he fixed the tie around his neck and took in his sister, then his cousins. "What's up with all the yelling?"

"Mom's about to start crying." Mickey said, fanning herself. "Which means I'm going to start crying and my makeup is going to smear. We should have gotten ready at Uncle Park's."

Amaya's face flushed at the mention of her uncle, or more specifically his son, but I pushed that aside for another day and stepped forward to take Michaela into my arms. "You look beautiful, Mick."

"You mean I look like Maya?"

I winced a little at the words, but eventually forced a nod.

Tan, Park, Nixon, and I had sat the twins down when they were fourteen and explained everything to them. It hadn't affected Max much, but Mickey had been devastated and did research, rummaged through photos, stalked Maya's social media accounts. She wanted to know my sister, her mother, but she eventually realized it was hurting her more than helping her and stopped altogether. I had told them they didn't need to call Tanner and me Mom and Dad, but they'd refused to stop as we were their parents. We'd raised them. Nixon was in and out, and they knew he was their father, but he was consistent enough for them to latch on to. He was just full of money and gifts for them whenever they saw him.

"We should get going." Max leaned forward and hugged me, squeezing my body against him tightly. "We're going to be okay, Mom. Don't worry."

I nodded, and he helped his sister down the hallway, both of them laughing over how Mickey continued to trip over her own feet. Trev reached out and touched a hand to my shoulder. "Mom, they're fine. We're fine. Everything is okay."

"It's not." I wiped at my cheeks, not wanting to walk to take pictures with a face full of tears. "I blinked and all of you are teenagers. Where did all my little babies go?"

Amaya stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. Having gotten her father's height, I only reached her chest, and she wasn't even done growing yet. "We're still your babies, Mom."

Trev approached and nudged me with a wicked smile I knew Parker had no doubt had something to do with. "I mean, you and Dad could still have more little babies."