Chapter 7
Six months passed.
Six quiet, peaceful, perfect months.
My husband was in prison.
Karen was working at a fast food joint on the other side of town, struggling to pay her fines.
Marge had moved to Florida, too embarrassed to show her face around here anymore.
No more threats.
No more late night phone calls.
No more looking over my shoulder.
The restaurant was doing better than ever.
I’d expanded into the empty storefront next door.
Added a private event space.
Hired ten more staff.
We were booked three months out for weddings and birthday parties and corporate events.
I’d also opened a small community kitchen out of the back.
Free cooking classes for single moms.
Free meals for anyone who was struggling to feed their kids.
It was the most rewarding thing I’d ever done.
Every time I saw a kid light up when they took their first bite of my famous chocolate chip pancakes, I knew this was why I’d built this place.
Not for money.
Not for fame.
To help people.
To give back.
I’d started dating, too.
Slow.
Scared, at first.
Convinced every man was just like my ex.
But then there was Ethan.
He was a regular.
Had been coming in for pancakes every Sunday for two years.
Quiet.
Kind.
A high school math teacher.
He’d brought me flowers the day after the slap, left them with the hostess with a note that just said I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.
He’d never pushed.
Never asked for anything.
Just came in every Sunday, sat at the counter, drank his coffee, smiled at me when I walked by.
He’d asked me out three months after the trial.
I’d said no the first two times.
Scared.
But the third time, he’d said, “We don’t have to call it a date.
We can just get burgers.
No pressure.
No expectations.
Just two people who like good food and bad jokes.”
I’d laughed.
Said yes.
It was perfect.
He never talked about my ex unless I brought him up.
Never tried to “fix” me.
Never got mad when I had to cancel last minute because of a problem at the restaurant.
He just showed up.
Helped me carry boxes when we were expanding.
Tutored the kids in the community kitchen in math for free on Saturdays.
Held me when the nightmares came, no questions, no pressure to talk, just his arms around me, warm and safe.
He was everything my ex had never been.
Steady.
Honest.
Kind.
But I still couldn’t fully let go.
Still couldn’t say I love you back when he said it.
Still flinched a little when he reached for me too fast.
Still woke up some nights, sweating, convinced my ex was standing in the corner of the room.
I was punishing myself, I knew.
For being stupid enough to trust my ex.
For letting him hurt me.
For not seeing the signs sooner.
I thought if I kept my walls up, if I never let anyone get too close, I’d never get hurt again.
Jake sat me down one night at the restaurant, after closing.
We were sharing a bottle of wine, looking out at the empty dining room.
“You’re being an idiot, you know that?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
“Ethan.
He’s perfect for you.
He loves you.
He adores you.
He treats you like you’re the most important person in the world.
And you’re pushing him away.
Because you’re scared.”
I looked down at my wine glass.
“What if he’s just like him?
What if one day he wakes up and decides I’m not enough?
What if he hurts me?”
Jake reached across the table, took my hand.
“Lila.
Listen to me.
What happened to you was not your fault.
None of it.
You didn’t do anything to deserve it.
You didn’t miss any signs.
He was a master manipulator.
A professional liar.
He could have fooled anyone.
And punishing yourself for the rest of your life by refusing to be happy?
That’s letting him win.
Even from prison.
He’s still controlling you.
Are you really going to let him do that?”
I sat there, quiet, for a long time.
He was right.
Of course he was right.
I’d spent so long being angry, so long fighting, that I’d forgotten how to just be happy.
How to let someone love me.
How to trust that I deserved good things.
Ethan was good.
He was kind.
He was nothing like my ex.
And I was tired of being scared.
Tired of letting a coward who was sitting in a prison cell 100 miles away control my life.
I stood up, grabbed my jacket.
“Where are you going?”
Jake asked, smiling.
He already knew.
“To Ethan’s.
I’ve got some things to say.”
I drove to his apartment fast, my heart hammering.
He opened the door in sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, holding a book, surprised to see me.
“Lila?
Everything okay?”
I didn’t answer.
I just stepped inside, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him.
Hard.
Like I’d been waiting my whole life to do it.
When I pulled back, he was staring at me, dazed, smiling a little.
“Not that I’m complaining, but—”
“I love you.”
I said it fast, before I could lose my nerve.
“I love you, Ethan.
I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.
I was scared.
I’m still scared, a little.
But I’m not scared enough to let you go.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
And I want to be with you.
All of me.
No walls.
No holding back.”
He kissed me then.
Soft.
Warm.
Perfect.
When he pulled back, he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I love you too, Lila.
More than anything.
And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re safe.
That you’re loved.
That you never have to be scared again.”
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For the first time in my life, I believed it.
I really, truly believed it.
