Chapter 10
One year to the day after our wedding, we sat on our back porch, watching Leo play in the yard.
He was seven now.
Tall for his age, with a gap where his two front teeth had fallen out, and Jake’s same stubborn chin.
He was playing soccer with our new golden retriever puppy, Lila, who we’d adopted from the shelter six months earlier.
She was named for Jake’s sister, of course.
Leo had picked her out the second he saw her, saying she had “Lila’s kind eyes.”
She was a terrible soccer player.
She kept stealing the ball and running off with it, making Leo chase her around the yard, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Jake sat beside me, his arm thrown over the back of my chair, holding a glass of iced tea.
My hand rested on his leg, my wedding ring catching the sun.
We’d just gotten the final letter in the mail that morning.
Ethan had appealed his sentence.
The appeals court had thrown it out.
Unanimous decision.
No more appeals.
No more delays.
He was in prison for life.
Really, truly, forever.
It was the last loose end.
The last little bit of him that had been hanging over our lives.
And now it was gone.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Jake said, kissing the side of my head.
I smiled, leaning into him.
“Just thinking,” I said.
“About how far we’ve come. About how happy I am. About how lucky we are.”
Jake nodded, looking out at Leo and Lila, rolling around in the grass together.
“We are lucky,” he said.
“Not because all the bad stuff happened. But because we got through it. Because we found each other. Because we got him.” He nodded at Leo.
“He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. You both are.”
Leo ran over then, Lila hot on his heels, both of them covered in grass and mud.
“Mom! Dad!” he yelled, skidding to a stop in front of the porch.
“Lila stole my soccer ball! And she chewed a hole in it! Look!”
He held up the sad, deflated ball, a big hole right in the side.
Jake tried to look serious.
He really did.
But he couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face.
“Lila,” he said, fake-stern, pointing at the puppy.
“Did you chew your brother’s soccer ball?”
Lila just wagged her tail, dropping the slobbery ball at his feet, and licked his hand.
Jake laughed, picking her up and scratching her behind the ears.
“Guess we need a new ball,” he said.
“Wanna go to the store after dinner? Get the good one. The neon one you’ve been begging for?”
Leo cheered so loud the birds flew off the oak tree.
“YES!” he yelled.
“Can we get ice cream too? Please? It’s a special day!”
I looked at Jake, smiling.
“It is a special day,” I said.
“Ice cream sounds perfect.”
We had Leo’s favorite for dinner that night.
Spaghetti with meatballs.
He ate three bowls, getting sauce all over his face and his new dinosaur shirt.
Lila sat under the table, catching every meatball he “accidentally” dropped.
After dinner, we drove into town.
Bought the neon green soccer ball.
Went to the ice cream shop downtown.
Leo got a triple scoop of mint chocolate chip, covered in sprinkles.
Jake got rocky road.
I got strawberry.
We sat at a table by the window, watching the people walk by, Leo talking a mile a minute about his upcoming soccer season and how he was going to score 100 goals.
Jake listened to every word, nodding like it was the most important thing he’d ever heard.
On the drive home, Leo fell asleep in the backseat, his head lolled against the window, a little bit of ice cream still on his chin.
Lila curled up at his feet, snoring soft.
Jake reached across the center console, taking my hand in his, lacing our fingers together.
“Remember when we thought we’d never be happy again?” he said, soft, so he wouldn’t wake Leo.
I nodded, looking at our joined hands, the rings on our fingers glinting in the streetlight.
“I remember,” I said.
“I remember thinking my life was over. That I’d never feel safe again. That I’d never love anyone again.”
Jake squeezed my hand.
“Look at us now,” he said.
I looked back at Leo, sleeping peaceful in the back, Lila curled up beside him.
I looked at Jake, the man who’d saved my son, who’d saved me, who’d given me the family I’d always dreamed of.
I thought of Lila, watching over us, her photo on the mantel, her name on our puppy, her love woven into every part of our lives.
I thought of Ethan, locked away forever, never to hurt anyone again.
Justice had been served.
Not just for Leo.
For Lila.
For all the pain.
All the fear.
All the lies.
We pulled into the driveway a few minutes later.
Jake carried Leo inside, tucking him into bed, kissing his forehead soft.
I carried Lila to her bed in the corner of Leo’s room, where she slept every night, guarding him while he dreamed.
We walked downstairs together, turning off the lights, leaving only the small lamp on in the living room.
Jake pulled me onto the couch with him, wrapping a blanket around both of us.
We sat there for a long time, quiet, just holding each other, listening to the crickets chirp outside.
I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat steady and strong under my ear.
For the first time in my life, I had no fear.
No doubt.
No what-ifs.
I was completely safe.
Completely loved.
Completely at peace.
My son was happy.
Healthy.
Confident.
He knew he was loved.
He knew he was safe.
He had a father who adored him, who would die before he let anything hurt him.
I had a husband who was my best friend, my partner, my rock.
We had a home.
A family.
A future full of soccer games and birthday parties and beach trips and quiet nights just like this one.
Jake kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“More than anything.”
“I love you too,” I whispered back.
“Forever.”
Outside, the moon rose high over the oak tree, casting silver light over the yard.
Somewhere, a cricket chirped.
Inside, our family slept, safe and warm and loved.
The bad days were over.
May you like
The good days were just beginning.
And they would last forever.
