When the door clicked shut again, the silence roared back in her wake, and I buried my face in the pillow, choking on sobs until there was nothing left but emptiness. And still, in the back of my mind, Danny’s voice hissed like a curse.
They’ll see. They’ll see what kind of mother you really are.
Hours passed, darkness mocked me through the window to mix with the darkness in my mind, but still I didn’t get out of bed. What was the point when all that was left inside of me was despair? I dreaded the sunrise, another day without my kids, without Travis and Eli. Even though I spent all day at the police station, filing reports and giving the proof I had of what I did, I still had no hope.
There were times when I felt like the Chief was going to sayI believe you, we got it wrong.
But he didn’t. He just kept taking notes and compiling my reports, ending the day with a passing,We’ll be in touch.
Limbo.
Purgatory.
Hell.
That was where I was. Stuck waiting for everyone else to get their shit together so I could go home to my family.
If they still wanted me.
The door creaked behind me again, and I stiffened. My mom was an angel, but I couldn’t face her. Coming home four years ago, broken and desolate, had been hard enough on her. Watching her break for me, feeling my pain in the way only a mother could, was too much for her. I couldn’t hurt her that way again.
A deep voice filled the room, low and steady. “Shade.”
My breath hitched as I turned over, and there he was. Travis. Like I’d conjured him from longing alone, big, broad and steady, filling the doorway like he was built to hold the whole world up.
I sat up fast, clutching the blanket to my chest. “What are you doing here? Are the kids okay?”
“They’re fine,” he said, closing the door behind him, encapsulating us in darkness. He crossed the room in three strides, crouching at the edge of the bed and gathering my shaking hands in his warm, strong ones. His eyes were softer than I could stand, because in his softness, I’d crumble. “I couldn’t let you go another night thinking you’re alone in this.”
The knot in my throat tightened until I could barely speak, “They need you.”
His hands slid up to cup my cheek, and I selfishly leaned into it, desperate for his touch, “They still have me. I tucked them in, they’re asleep, and Eli is sleeping on the couch outside of their rooms. They’re fine.” I sobbed again, leaning into him as he went on. “They laughed today, baby. They ate too many of my mom’s cookies, made Eli referee a hockey game in the living room and brushed their teeth at bedtime. They’re safe. They’re happy. Because of you.”
My chest shook as I tried to breathe, “Because of you,” I whispered, “Not me. I’m the reason?—”
“No,” His voice sharpened, firm enough to cut through the spiral. “Don’t do that. Don’t give him his victory. You’re their mother. Their anchor. The reason those kids shine the way they do is because of you and your sacrifices. No report, no agent, no son of a bitch can rewrite that truth.”
“Then why don’t they see that!” I cried, falling forward, crashing into him with my fists clutching his shirt. He wrapped me up without hesitation, lifting me onto his lap like I weighed nothing, holding me until the sobs shook free.
We sat there in the dark, the old house creaking around us, his heartbeat steady under my ear.
When the silence finally stretched, he leaned down, whispering against my hair. “The world just needs to do its due diligence to make sure. We’re going to fight the whole time until they do, though. All of us, Me, Eli, my parents. Hell, the whole damn town if we have to. You’re not carrying it alone.”
I nodded against him, too broken to argue anymore. For the first time since the papers hit the bar, I felt the smallest thread of hope. Travis was here, and he wasn’t letting go.
He still wanted me.
He never let go, physically or mentally, as he shifted us both up onto the mattress, pulling the blanket up around me like I was something fragile, on the edge of breaking. My head stayed pressed to his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear, the warmth of his body wrapping around me like armor.
“You should go,” I whispered, though my voice cracked even as I said it. “You should be there when they wake up.”
“I’m right where I need to be, baby.” He murmured, his hand smoothing over my hair, down my back in slow, steady strokes. “Right here, right now, I’m here with you. And tomorrow, they’re going to my parent’s house to be carefree kids on a farm, with allthe fun they can find there. But I’m with you, we don’t leave each other behind, Frankie, not anymore. I’m here.”
The tears came again, softer this time, quiet against the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t flinch; he didn’t press me to talk or pull me tighter than I could handle. He just stayed solid and unyielding.
I forced myself to rest. I forced myself to find some solace in his arms long enough to make the noise in my head fall silent.
“Close your eyes, Shade. I’ve got you.”
