She relaxes against me, her head settling back on my chest. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me for wanting to stay."
We lie there in the quiet, her body warm against mine. Her breathing slows, evens out. She falls asleep first, her hand resting on my chest.
I stay awake a little longer. Watching her. Thinking about how different she looks right now — soft, satisfied, peaceful.
Thinking about how I'm going to make sure she always looks like this.
Thinking about Ryan, and what I'm going to do if he ever comes near her again.
I pull her closer and close my eyes.
Tonight, she's mine.
CHAPTER 5
GRACIE
I'm falling for him.
It's stupid and fast and probably reckless, but there it is. Two weeks of stolen moments after Amelia's asleep. Two weeks of heated looks across the driveway when I'm leaving for work and he's working on his bike. Two weeks of texting him goodnight and waking up to messages that make me smile like an idiot.
For the first time in years, I feel safe. Not just physically — though that too — but in the way that matters more. I can be myself with him. Messy and scared and still figuring things out. He doesn't try to fix me or tell me what I should feel. He just... shows up. Every time.
Amelia's noticed something's different. She asked me yesterday why I keep smiling at my phone. I told her it was a funny video. She gave me a look that said she didn't believe me for a second.
She likes him. That's the part that gets me. She's shy around new people — always has been — but last week she wandered over to his driveway while he was working on his bike and asked him a million questions. I watched from the porch, heart in my throat, waiting for him to brush her off or get impatient.
He didn't. He crouched down to her level and showed her the engine, explained what each part did, let her touch the chrome. When she came back, she announced that Diesel was "pretty cool" and asked if he could teach her to ride a motorcycle.
Today is a good day. Work was fine, Amelia had a playdate after school, and I managed to get dinner on the table without burning anything. Small victories. I'll take them.
We're cleaning up the dishes when the doorbell rings.
I'm not expecting anyone. My stomach tightens automatically — old habit — but I push it down. It's probably a package. A neighbor. Something normal.
I open the door, and Ryan is standing on my porch.
For a second, I can't process it. He's here. At my house. The house he's not supposed to know the address of, the house that was supposed to be my fresh start, my safe place.
"Gracie." He smiles. That reasonable, charming smile I used to think was genuine. "Surprise."
"How did you find me?"
"Does it matter?" He's wearing slacks and a button-down, like he just came from the office. Like this is a casual visit. "I was in the area. Thought I'd stop by, check on our daughter."
"You're not supposed to be here."
"I'm her father."
"You have court-ordered visitation. This isn't visitation. This is—" I stop myself. Don't give him ammunition. Don't let him see you rattled. "You need to leave."
"Gracie." His voice drops, that soft disappointed tone I remember too well. "I just want to talk. Can we be civil about this? For Amelia's sake?"
He takes a step forward. I take a step back.
"She's doing homework. She doesn't need to see you right now."
