Then Billy turned to Ryder and handed him an envelope. "These are for you."
Ryder frowned, glancing at me before taking the papers. "What is this?"
Billy's eyes twinkled. "This is your shop, Ryder."
Ryder blinked, confused. "Yes, I mean... I work here."
"No," Billy said, his voice gentle but firm. "I mean you own it."
"What?"
I froze, my heart thudding, but a surge of happiness for Ryder rose so fast it almost made me dizzy.
Billy smiled faintly. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Margot and I don't have children. It's a long story. Jan and a few others we've mentored—those were our babies. They're scattered allover the world now, successful and happy. And now, you two... you've both entered my heart. I may not say much, but I adore you both. I wish I could take all the pain out of your hearts, but I can't. All I can do is push you toward the first step. The rest is up to you."
I glanced at Ryder. His eyes were wet, his throat working as if the words were stuck. So I reached out and held his hand, squeezing gently, then turned to Billy. "Thank you, Billy."
Ryder finally managed to speak, his voice rough. "It's... it's too much."
Billy chuckled, the sound like gravel and warmth at once. "No, darling boy, it's not. Margot and I may not look it, but we're actually rich—like very rich." Margot snorted from behind the counter, rolling her eyes dramatically. Billy went on, "This jewelry business has been more of a hobby for years. Be good to an old man, Ryder, and accept."
Before I could say anything, Ryder stepped forward and wrapped Billy in a full, desperate hug. Billy stiffened for a second, then hugged him back just as fiercely, patting his shoulder.
Billy's voice went soft. "Now go on, Dec. Join the hug."
I laughed, tears prickling my eyes, and stepped forward, wrapping my arms around both of them. Margot, of course, ruined the moment in the best way. "Oh, for heaven's sake," she muttered, coming over with a tissue box. "You three look like a sad sandwich. Someone has to be the cheese." She wedged herself into our circle and made an exaggerated sniffing sound. "There. Perfect. A proper family photo."
We all burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the beautiful new shop, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Ryder's shoulders relaxed under my hands.
Chapter 27: Fairy Lights
Dr. Klein sat back, hands folded loosely, his tone steady. "Trust is one of those words people throw around like it's simple. But trust is not instant. Even when the mind logically understands, the heart lags behind. That lag is where most couples stumble."
She glanced between us. "December, you've said you know Ryder was acting from fear, not malice, and yet, your self-esteem took the hit. What happens inside you in those moments?"
I twisted my fingers in my lap. "It's like... I know he wasn't trying to hurt me. But when he said those things, it pressed every button I already had. The old voices. The ones that say I'm not enough, I'm disposable, and knowing logically doesn't erase how it felt. It still aches."
Klein nodded slowly. "That is very common. The brain knows, but the body remembers. Ryder, what about you? What happens inside you when you feel close to danger?"
Ryder's jaw tightened. He exhaled through his nose. "Reflex. I flinch. I shut down. Even when I know Dec isn't her, my body still reacts. It's like it doesn't trust the evidence yet."
Dr. Klein leaned forward, her voice calm and steady. "Good. That's the heart of it: trust isn't built only by logic. You can both tell yourselves the other isn't going to hurt you, but that won'terase what your nervous system has been taught to expect. Trust is built through repeated safe moments, one on top of another, until your body starts to believe what your mind already knows."
She glanced at us in turn. "Ryder, you know December isn't your abuser, yet your body still flinches. December, you know Ryder never meant to hurt you, but when he hid the truth, it triggered old wounds that whisper you're not enough. Both of you understand the truth intellectually, but your bodies are lagging behind. That's the work we're doing here."
Her tone softened. "That's where the exercise comes in. It's calledThe Daily Check-In.Every night, before bed, you'll take five minutes. Each of you will share one feeling you had that day, just one, even if it's small. Then share one thing you appreciated about the other person. No interruptions, no problem-solving. Just listening, just receiving."
She folded her hands. "It sounds simple, but it creates safety. Your nervous systems begin to expect honesty and care in these little windows. Over time, those daily deposits rebuild the foundation of trust."
I nodded slowly, pressing my palms together in my lap. Ryder met my eyes, and for the first time in a while, his looked less guarded. We both nodded. Maybe five minutes a day could be the start of something bigger.
The following week, I came home from work expecting the usual, Ryder tinkering in the workshop, Margot fussing over her rabbit kingdom but instead, a pickup truck sat in the driveway.
I froze. "What is this?"
Ryder lounged against the truck, trying way too hard to look nonchalant. "It's a truck."
I narrowed my eyes. "Obviously. But whose truck?"
