I sat down on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair back from her face. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.” She hid her face behind the Squishmallow. “I don’t know what I was thinking?—”
“Hey. I love you. Nothing you could do will ever change that. You freaked out; it happens to the best of us. But promise me that next time you’ll come to me. Please. Or Grandpa, or any of your aunts, Lark, Grandma, anyone. Just don’t run off alone. I want you to be safe, sweetheart.”
“I promise. I will.” She peeked out, and I brushed her tears away. “I love you, too, Mom. I’m so sorry?—”
“I forgive you. No more apologizing, okay? It’s done, and you’re safe. You want breakfast? Tea? A loud distraction?”
She shook her head no. “Can you stay with me for a minute? Is it okay if I sleep a little bit more?”
“Yeah. Of course.” I slid into bed beside her and pulled her into my arms, wondering why it took a trauma to make my teenagers want to cuddle with me.
“Do you regret marrying Dad?” Her whispered question shocked me, though I should have known it was coming based on how he had been behaving lately. “I kind of hate him right now. I don’t know if I’m supposed to say stuff like that out loud?—”
I squeezed her tight, then brushed her hair over her shoulder. “You can say anything you want to me. I’m your vault. I’m the safest space in the world for you, Briar. I promise.”
“Okay. Are you sorry you had kids with him?” Her voice was tiny, barely audible.
“No.” I pulled back to look into her eyes. “Never. Not for one single second. I think women might sometimes marry the wrong man. But we always,alwaysget the right kids. You, Lark, and Noah are my whole heart. Please believe that.”
“Okay,” she whispered, snuggling herself deeper into my arms. “I believe you. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart. Forever and ever. To the moon.”
She didn’t say anything else, but after a few seconds, she relaxed and let out a huge, trembling sigh.
And from the other room, I heard the soft creak of the old floorboards, the kettle clicking on, the sound of Hunter moving around my kitchen. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel like I had to do it all alone.
After a while, Briar drifted back to sleep, and I eased myself off the bed without waking her.
The house was still quiet, except for the faint sound of the kettle finishing its cycle and a pair of mugs being set on the counter. When I stepped into the kitchen, Hunter was already pouring cups of tea, like he did this every day.
He held out a mug to me. “Thought you might need this.”
I took the mug and let the warmth settle in my hands like armor. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. My eyes widened, and I hissed in a breath as he leaned against the counter, his mug cradled loosely in one hand, eyes on me but gentle about it. “You want me to go?”
I looked at him. The flannel sleeves were rolled up, exposing strong forearms I had no business noticing. His hair was sleep-rumpled, his expression tired but steady, like nothing could shake him. And somehow, just standing there in my kitchen, he made me feel more grounded than I had in weeks.
But at the same time, something in me shifted. The way he looked at me—calm, unwavering—sent a ripple through my chest. Like my body knew something my mind wasn’t ready to admit. He felt safe, yes… but suddenly, he also felt dangerous in a way I couldn’t name. “No,” I said, quiet but certain. “Not yet.”
He nodded like he already knew I was going to ask him to stay.
We stood there, sipping in silence, when someone knocked on the front door with the exact energy of a hurricane warning.
I cracked it open to find Piper standing on the porch with a paper bag in one hand, Ren at her side, carrying a box of take-out coffee cups like a breakfast-themed rescue squad.
“Don’t panic,” she said, sweeping past me into the kitchen. “We’re not here to smother you. We’re here to feed you, assess the situation, and report back to Mom, Grandma, Grandpa, and… I guess everyone. Hunter.” She smiled at him with knowing eyes. “I’m glad you’re here. Good. Finally.”
Ren followed, setting the coffee down on the counter. “For now, I want you to avoid communicating with Eli. Direct him to me.”
“Got it. No screaming fits or threats. Check. The kids are okay, for now. They’re home, safe, asleep.”
Piper opened the bag and began pulling out pastries and foil-wrapped breakfast burritos. “Food helps. Now you don’t have to make breakfast. Just eat and try to relax.”
Ren gave me a look and jerked his head toward the back yard. I followed him outside, away from curious ears.
