No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar.

(eighteen years old) pt. 1

I think we're all on the verge of tears when I carry up the last box and set it on his empty bed.

I look at Finn, my baby, who I fell in love with sixteen years ago. I look at him, and all I can see how his smile looks so much like Annabelle's, and how they both fiddle with their necklaces when they're bored or anxious, and how he'd slip into the kitchen next to me and help me bake her favorite blondies when she was working too hard.

I can see how he's taken after me, too, and it makes my heart fill up so much it's bursting whenever he starts braiding his hair. (I used to braid it whenever he got nervous for school the next day, or for anything, really. Not to mention how adorable he looks with random tiny braids sticking out of his fluffy hair at random.)

I can see the small scar on his hand from an ... unfortunate incident with a stapler. Oh, well. At least he'll have a couple stories to tell.

Annabelle holds my hand tightly, as if she can feel everything I am right now. She probably can, she's probably going through the same thought process as me. After all, she did raise him with me.

There's no one I'd rather have spent the last years with than these two.

There's no one I'd rather spend the rest of my life with than these two.

"You better call," I pout, pushing my finger into his chest. He just smiles, so so easily, and I know that after this Annabelle and I will sit in her truck and cry for a couple hours before pulling ourselves together and heading home to a house that's much too empty. But for now I smile back, easy. I can do easy, even though this is one of the hardest moments in my life.

Why didn't Bonnie warn us how heart-wrenching this mixture of pride and sadness was?

"Of course. Every week."

And his fingers find the thin silver chain we got him for his eighteenth birthday. We all have one. They're simple, with only a tiny silver heart on the metal.

"Don't be sad," he whispers. "You two will always be my moms. Nothing's gonna change. It's just like I'm at a big sleepover, yeah?"

Annabelle lets out a sniffle, and I agree. "Dammit Finn, we're supposed to be the ones comforting you."

Her voice is tight, but still hers. He grins again, this time squishing us into a hug. He hugs like Annabelle does.

Nope, not gonna cry.

At least. Not now.

I do, of course. Later. I climb into the passenger seat onto Annabelle's lap and she just holds me.

We stay like that for a while. I cry into her shoulder, and maybe she cries into mine.

Annabelle's phone buzzes against my thigh.

I miss you guys :(

a/n: someone hold me while i sob