Letters to Isabella

fifty.

3 months later

Laura's POV

"Hey, honey?" I ask, finally catching Isabella's attention. She had been sat across from me with her knees tucked up to her chest texting furiously back and forth to someone for the last hour and a half. "Why don't you put that down for a little while? I need your help with something."

Isabella, after sending one last text to whoever she was talking to, glanced up at me and put her phone to the side. "Sorry mom. I've been a little..." she looks away from me. "distracted."

"That's okay." I murmur. I stroke the top of her head gently with my free hand and smile lovingly at her. "Is everything okay baby?"

I could always tell when something was off with Isabella. She sort of pulls this frown across her lips, much like Ross does when something is bothering him or replaying on a loop in his mind. Her usual perky brown eyes always get replaced with sadness and confusion. I hated seeing my little girl upset.

When you have kids that you've carried for nine months and raised to be the best versions of themselves that they can possibly be, it really cuts deep when you have to watch them face challenging moments. All I want to do is hold her in my arms again like I did when she was a newborn baby and shield her from all the negativity in the world. But... that's not possible anymore.

My baby girl is becoming a young woman and there's nothing I can do to prevent that from happening, no matter how badly I wish time would just slow down for a little while so I can enjoy her youth a little longer.

"Mom..." Isabella slowly began to explain. She turned herself to face me and let out a quiet yet nervous sigh. "something happened a couple of months ago and I never told you."

I crossed my arms over my chest, or at least as much as I could anyway. After all, my twin girls are growing much quicker than they originally were and my stomach has become exceptionally larger than before which makes it difficult to do pretty much anything except eat, sit, nap and feel sorry for myself.

"Bella... honey." I slowly say, eyeing her cautiously up and down.

What could she have possibly gotten herself into? I think to myself. She's only twelve years old. That's hardly enough time to get yourself into too much trouble, right?

"You can tell me anything honey... you know that, right? Your home is a safe place. It always has been and will continue to be."

I'd always encouraged her about our home being a safe zone for her and I would do the same for Bailey and our twin girls too. It's so important nowadays that kids have a place to go/have an environment where they are free to unapologetically be themselves. How else can they develop as individuals properly?

She fumbles nervously with her fingers and nods her head slowly up and down. "Of course I know that, mom." She says, almost in a sigh. "It's just... this... this situation is difficult to explain."

I press my lips together to prevent myself from jumping into any unnecessary assumptions. If I wanted to be a good mom it would be in my best interest to let Isabella take her time and then try my best to help her through whatever she's dealing with.

"Difficult, huh?" I ask in a calm and collected tone, although deep down I'm terrified of what she's about to tell me. Isabella nods, her brown eyes filling up with fear. "I can do difficult." I say confidently. "In fact, difficult situations are one of my easiest to help out in."