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It’s been three weeks since Ben tried to ruin my life.

He failed.

I’ve had two therapy appointments, the cottage door has finally been repaired, and Ben is back behind bars where he fucking belongs. I’m still staying at Dean’s, although at this point, we’ve all stopped pretending it’s temporary.

It’s after nine on Saturday night when someone knocks on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” I call, pushing myself off the couch.

I’m still smiling when I pull open the door.

Then I see him.

“Jerry?”

His face crumples. “Hey, kid.”

That’s it.

I burst into tears and throw my arms around his neck, squeezing him like my life depends on it. It’s been months since I’ve seen him, but the familiar smell of his cologne immediately takes me back to every moment he was there when no one else was.

I pull away and grip his shoulders.

“You bastard! You didn’t tell me what day you were coming. I wasn’t even sure you still were.”

“Your man lined it up for me.” Jerry laughs, gesturing behind me.

I turn and point at Dean. “You’re pretty good at keeping secrets, Ashford.”

Dean smiles as he walks over with Aspen beside him. “Jerry. Good to finally meet you in person.”

They share a solid handshake.

“Likewise,” Jerry says before looking down at Aspen. “And you must be Aspen.”

He crouches in front of her with a smile.

“Yep. That’s me.” Aspen studies him for a moment. “Are you Blair’s daddy?”

I still.

Not because the question makes me uncomfortable, but because, for one brief second, I think about my own parents.

The people who were supposed to protect me and never did.

“Sort of, kiddo,” Jerry answers with a soft laugh.

My chest tightens.

Aspen accepts that answer without question. “Do you like pancakes?”

“Love them.”

“Good. Daddy makes them on Saturdays.”

“It’s Saturday now,” Dean points out.