If mother became a mother (Taylor Swift adoption story)

Bonding

TW: self harm

Hailey's POV

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over my room. I sit on the edge of my bed, my mind heavy with the weight of last night's nightmares. Despite Taylor's comforting presence, the memories still linger, haunting me like ghosts in the dark.

As I stare at the floor, a familiar ache gnaws at my chest, a constant reminder of the pain I can't seem to escape. It's a pain that's grown so familiar, it's almost comforting in its constancy. Without fully realizing what I'm doing, my hand moves to the bedside table, where I keep the small blade hidden.

Each cut is a silent scream, a desperate attempt to dull the ache inside to make the pain visible, tangible, something I can control. But even as the blood wells up, staining my skin, I know it's only a temporary fix a temporary escape from the demons that haunt me.

Lost in my own thoughts, I don't hear the soft knock on the door, or the gentle creak as it opens. It's only when Taylor's voice breaks through the haze that I realize I'm not alone.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asks, her voice filled with concern.

I startle, the blade slipping from my fingers and clattering to the floor. Panic surges through me as I realize what she's seen—the evidence of my pain laid bare for her to see.

Taylor's eyes widen in shock as she takes in the scene before her. Without a word, she crosses the room and kneels beside me, gathering the blade from the floor with trembling hands.

I can't bring myself to meet her gaze, my shame too great to bear. But she doesn't look away. Instead, she reaches out and gently takes my hand in hers, her touch warm and comforting against my skin. What is she going to go will she hit, she will definitely hate me, what if she sends me back?

"Sweetheart," she says softly, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea..."

Taylor's eyes meet mine, her gaze unwavering. "I'm going to take this," she says softly, holding up the blade between us. "But I need you to understand that I'm not taking it to punish you. I'm taking it because I love you, and I want to keep you safe."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as her words sink in the realization that I've hurt her, that I've let her down in the worst possible way.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "I didn't mean to..."

Taylor pulls me into her lap, holding me close as I tremble against her. "It's okay," she murmurs, her voice a soothing balm against my raw nerves. "It's okay. I'm here now."

For a long time, we simply sit there, wrapped in each other's embrace. The weight of the moment hangs heavy between us, but somehow, Taylor's presence makes it bearable. With her by my side, I know that I'm not alone that together, we can face whatever comes our way.

As the tears finally subside, replaced by a sense of calm I haven't felt in years, Taylor pulls away slightly, her eyes searching mine with unwavering intensity.

"Sweetheart," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "I need you to promise me something."

I nod, a flicker of hope stirring in my chest. "Anything," I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"I need you to promise me that you'll talk to me," she says, her gaze unwavering. "I need you to promise me that you won't go through this alone—that you'll let me help you."

Her words hang heavy in the air, the weight of her concern pressing down on me. But beneath it all, there's something else, a glimmer of hope, a reminder that I'm not as alone as I thought.