Chapter 10
Lily’s tenth birthday party was perfect.
The sun shone bright, warm but not too hot, a soft breeze blowing through the oak trees.
We strung pink and purple balloons all over the yard, hung a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILY banner between two trees, set up tables with checkered tablecloths, piled high with food and presents.
Richard manned the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs, wearing a silly apron that said #1 GRANDPA.
Olivia frosted the big unicorn cake she’d made, covered in pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles, a little sugar rabbit on top.
Marta set out bowls of chips, potato salad, fruit, her famous chocolate chip cookies.
Tom and Jake ran around with the kids, playing tag, pushing them on the swing set, helping them climb the ladder to the treehouse.
My two seamstresses and their kids ran around, laughing, eating popsicles, chasing each other through the garden.
Lily was the happiest I’d ever seen her.
She wore a frilly pink dress I’d made her, her hair in two braids tied with ribbons, her new real rabbit—white with floppy ears, a birthday present from Richard—tucked in a pet carrier by the porch, so all the kids could pet her.
She ran from friend to friend, showing off her treehouse, her swing set, her garden, her rabbit, grinning so wide her cheeks must have hurt.
When it was time for cake, we all gathered around the big table.
We sang Happy Birthday, off key and loud, Lily bouncing up and down, clapping her hands.
She closed her eyes, made a wish, and blew out all ten candles in one big breath.
Everyone cheered.
She cut the first piece of cake, got frosting all over her nose, and laughed so hard she snort-laughed, just like she did when she was little.
She opened her presents after cake.
A new art set from Olivia.
A stack of chapter books from Marta.
A little jewelry box with a ballerina inside from Tom and Jake.
A custom dress with bunnies all over it from my seamstresses.
And the rabbit, of course, from Richard, which she’d named Cotton.
She hugged every single person, thanked them over and over, her face bright, no fear, no sadness, just pure, unadulterated joy.
By late afternoon, the party started to wind down.
The kids went home, tired and sugar-high, carrying goodie bags full of candy and tiny stuffed rabbits.
Olivia and Marta packed up the leftover food, loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, wiped down the tables.
Tom and Jake folded up the chairs, put away the balloons, said goodnight, and headed home.
Richard sat on the porch swing, drinking a beer, watching Lily play with Cotton on the grass, a small, content smile on his face.
I walked out to the small creek at the edge of the property, the one I’d sat by so many nights since we moved in.
The water ran clear and cold over the smooth stones, the sun glinting off the surface, making it look like scattered diamonds.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out the small velvet box I’d been carrying around for weeks.
I opened it.
Inside was my old wedding ring.
The thin gold band Daniel had put on my finger eight years ago, the ring I’d left on the dining room table that terrible morning, the ring the police had given back to me after the trial.
I’d held onto it for months.
I didn’t know why.
Maybe as a reminder.
Maybe because I was scared to let go of the past, even the bad parts.
But not today.
Today was Lily’s birthday.
Today was the first day of the rest of our lives.
Today, I was letting go.
Forever.
I took the ring out of the box, held it up to the sun for a second.
It glinted, cold and hard, a symbol of everything I’d survived.
Then I dropped it into the creek.
It hit the water with a soft plop, sank to the bottom, and was gone.
Carried away by the current, never to be seen again.
I stood there for a minute, watching the water run, feeling lighter than I ever had in my whole life.
No more weight.
No more chains.
No more past.
Just now.
Just the future.
“Hey.”
I turned around.
Richard was standing behind me, holding two glasses of lemonade, his face soft.
He’d seen me drop the ring.
He didn’t say anything about it.
He just handed me a glass, cold and sweet with extra sugar, just how I liked it.
“Lily’s looking for you,” he said, smiling. “She wants to show you the fairy house she built in the garden with Cotton.”
I smiled, took the lemonade, and walked back toward the house with him.
Lily was kneeling in the garden, Cotton in her lap, arranging tiny rocks and flowers around a little house made of sticks and moss.
She looked up when she saw us, grinned, and waved.
“Mommy! Grandpa Rich! Come look!” she yelled. “It’s Cotton’s new house! She’s gonna live here forever and ever!”
We walked over, knelt down beside her, and admired the fairy house.
It was perfect.
Tiny, lopsided, made with love, just like our family.
“Wow, baby,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “It’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. Cotton is so lucky.”
She beamed, proud.
She stood up, Cotton still in her arms, and grabbed both our hands, her small fingers wrapped tight around mine and Richard’s.
She pulled us toward the porch, toward the house, toward the warm light spilling out the windows, toward the smell of leftover cake and cookies, toward the sound of Olivia and Marta laughing in the kitchen.
The sun was setting, painting the sky pink and orange and purple, the same colors as the day Daniel was sentenced.
The fireflies were starting to come out, blinking soft in the grass, tiny little lights dancing in the dark.
The crickets chirped, the creek gurgled, the oak trees rustled soft in the breeze.
Lily skipped between us, swinging our hands, singing a silly song she’d made up about Cotton the rabbit.
Richard squeezed my hand, smiled down at me, his eyes full of love.
I squeezed back, smiling, my heart so full it felt like it might burst.
This was it.
My happy ending.
The one I’d dreamed of as a little girl, the one I’d thought was gone forever when Daniel threw that coffee in my face.
I had a beautiful home.
A thriving business.
A daughter who was happy, healthy, safe, loved.
A father who adored me, who’d fought for me, who’d given me everything.
A sister, friends, people who loved me, who had my back, who would never let anyone hurt me again.
I was safe.
I was loved.
I was confident.
I was free.
We walked up the porch steps, Lily still singing, still swinging our hands.
The front door was open, the warm light wrapping around us like a hug.
Cotton wiggled in Lily’s arms, twitched her nose, and hopped down to chase a firefly across the yard.
Lily laughed, a loud, happy sound, the best sound in the whole world.
I looked at Richard.
At Lily.
At the house, the yard, the garden, the creek, the stars coming out.
I took a deep breath, the warm summer air filling my lungs, and smiled.
Justice had been served.
The past was gone.
The future was bright.
May you like
And for the first time in my life?
I was completely, perfectly, undeniably happy.
