My ex signed away our kids to celebrate his mistress’s pregnancy. He had no idea a doctor’s words would destroy everything.

A month after the hearing, the intercom buzzed at Lila’s apartment.

I was folding laundry on the couch, the kids outside playing in the courtyard.

I pressed the button, frowning.

“Who is it?” I said.

A woman’s voice, shaky and familiar, came through the speaker.

“It’s Vivian,” she said. “Julian’s mother. And Camila’s with me. We… we need to talk to you. Please.”

My stomach dropped.

What did they want?

Had Julian sent them?

Were they here to try and change the judge’s ruling?

I hesitated, my finger hovering over the button to hang up.

Then I thought of Vivian, crying at the school play when Leo had his first line.

I thought of Camila, sneaking Sophie extra cookies at family dinners when Julian wasn’t looking.

They’d been cruel to me during the divorce.

They’d taken Julian’s side every time.

But they’d loved the kids.

In their own messed-up way, they’d loved them.

“Okay,” I said, pressing the button to let them in.

Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

I opened it.

Vivian and Camila stood on the threshold, their luggage at their feet, their faces pale and nervous.

Vivian was holding a large gift bag, stuffed full of wrapped presents.

Camila had a small stuffed rabbit in her hand, the same kind Sophie had loved since she was a toddler.

“Come in,” I said, stepping aside.

They sat down on the couch, stiff and awkward, like they were afraid to move.

I poured them glasses of water, sitting across from them in an armchair.

No one spoke for a long moment.

Then Vivian burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. “I’m so, so sorry. I knew Julian was selfish, I knew he was cruel, but I let him treat you that way. I told you to be quiet, to be a good wife, to look the other way. And I let him hurt those beautiful babies. I’ll never forgive myself.”

Camila reached over, patting her mother’s back, her own eyes glistening.

“We found out what he did,” she said, her voice quiet. “We found out he attacked Leo outside the school. We disowned him. We haven’t spoken to him in two months. He’s dead to us.”

She looked at me, her eyes sincere.

“We don’t want to fight you. We don’t want to take the kids. We just… we want to be part of their lives. If you’ll let us. We’ll come every other month, we’ll follow any rules you set, we’ll never mention Julian again. We just want to know them. They’re our family too.”

Vivian nodded, wiping her tears.

“We know we don’t deserve it,” she said. “But we’re begging you. Give us a chance.”

I sat there, quiet, thinking.

I thought of all the times they’d let me down.

I thought of all the times they’d chosen Julian over what was right.

But I also thought of the kids.

They’d lost their father.

They didn’t have to lose their grandmother and aunt too.

“Okay,” I said finally.

Vivian and Camila both gasped, fresh tears spilling down their faces.

“But there are rules,” I said, holding up a hand. “Julian is never to be mentioned in this house, or around the kids, ever. You don’t talk about him, you don’t ask about him, you don’t take his side in anything. If you break that rule, you’re gone. And you never, ever make me or the kids feel like we owe you anything. We don’t. This is a privilege, not a right.”

“Anything,” Vivian said, nodding so hard her glasses slipped down her nose. “We’ll do anything. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I called the kids in from the courtyard.

They ran in, stopping short when they saw Vivian and Camila.

“Grandma?” Leo said, confused.

“Aunt Camila?” Sophie said, her face lighting up.

Vivian held out the gift bag, her hands shaking.

“We brought you presents,” she said, her voice wobbly.

Sophie ran over, climbing into Vivian’s lap, tearing into the presents.

Leo walked over slowly, sitting next to Camila, letting her hug him.

I watched them, a small smile tugging at my mouth.

It wasn’t perfect.

There was still a lot of hurt to heal.