Page 17 of Keeping Caroline

The Phoenix

Kneeling beside the tub, my fingers worked gently across Evie’s scalp, loving the sight of new growth. Bubbles rose and popped around her as she played with a baby doll in the water.

“I liked it when Mr. Tristan ended up in jail and couldn’t get out.” She giggled, still giddy after kicking both Tristan and my butt at Monopoly.

“You put us both in there, nugget. You’ve gotten very good at counting money.” Leaning her head back, she giggled harder. These moments were precious, islands of normalcy in a sea of uncertainty—a sea we’d been navigating ever since Daniel left us.

“Can we play again tomorrow?” Big blue eyes looked up at me, making it nearly impossible to say no. “I like Mr. Tristan. He’s nice isn’t he, Mommy?”

I leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. “He is, and if he isn’t too busy helping Uncle Ethan, we’ll see if he can spare some time for the world’s cutest jailer.”

“Good.” She nodded as though that was that, splashing a little more before settling down.

Scooping up more water, I poured it over her head, careful not to get any soap in those bright, curious eyes—eyes that mirrored Daniel’s in a way that both warmed and shattered my heart.

“Mommy?” she asked, her tone turning pensive.

“Yes, nugget?”

“Will I have hair like yours again? Long and pretty?”

“Absolutely.” My throat tightened just a bit, hating that such things were on her mind. “Your hair will grow back thick and beautiful, just like Rapunzel’s.”

“Then I can use it to rescue Mr. Tristan from jail!” Her laughter filled the room once more, echoing off the tiles and drowning out the melancholic whispers of loss that lingered at the edges of my thoughts.

With the last of the bubbles disappearing down the drain, I dried and dressed Evie and tucked her into bed. Alone in the quiet aftermath, I braced my hands on the counter, willing my heart to stay anchored in the present, but memories were unruly creatures. They didn’t heed such commands. After spending the entire day with Tristan, a day I’d enjoyed more than even I wanted to admit, I still couldn’t force down that ache that stirred in my chest. Three years had passed since the accident claimed my husband’s life, yet the grief clung to me like a second skin. I just wondered what it would take to move on. Not forget…just move on.

“It’s nice outside. Do you want to sit with me?” Tristan’s voice, a soft baritone infused with warmth, pulled me from my downward spiral as he passed down the hall from the guest room. I steadied my breath, pushing myself to smooth out my features and leave the bathroom.

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, my voice betraying none of the conflicting swirl of emotions.

Taking one more peek into Evie’s room, I gently pulled the door closed behind me, a quiet click echoing in my ears. The house seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what came next. The soft glow of moonlight filtered through the windows, the light guiding me toward the back patio where I knew Tristan would be waiting.

When I stepped outside, he was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, two glasses of wine shimmering on the table beside him.

“She’s asleep,” I said as I sat beside him, reaching out to take one of the glasses. The night sky stretched above us like an infinite canvas, painted with countless constellations that glittered amidst a sea of darkness.

“Your daughter is remarkable,” he said, the admiration clear in his tone. “She reminds me so much of you.”

His words warmed my chest, a wistful smile tugging at my lips as I gazed up at the stars. “Thank you, but she’s so much stronger than me. Her strength amazes me every day. I can only hope that I’m able to give her the love and support she needs.”

“You are,” he said, his eyes meeting mine, somehow cutting straight into my soul. “You’re everything she could ever ask for and more, Caroline. Never doubt that.”

His words stirred a swell of emotion within me, bringing tears to my eyes. If only he knew how much I doubted myself—how weak I sometimes felt, as though the pain was too much. But I continued to fight for my daughter.

My heart clenched at the thought of the losses we had endured and the pain that had woven itself into the fabric of our lives. But in that moment, as Tristan’s gaze held mine with unwavering certainty, I felt a sense of connection that transcended the darkness. Maybe if he believed in me, and Evie believed in me, I could learn to believe in myself too...just maybe.

“Thank you,” I whispered, allowing myself to lean into the comfort and understanding he offered so freely. “I appreciate that. It’s easy to doubt yourself when the stakes are always so high.”

Expression softening, Tristan’s hand reached toward mine on the armrest between our chairs, resting on top of it. For a moment, the touch was surprising, and I wasn’t sure if it was something I was ready for, but his skin against mine sent such a wave of awareness through my body, making it impossible to pull my hand away. It felt too good.

As though he could sense my insecurity, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a grin. “If a Superwoman like you doubts herself, what does that say for the rest of us superheroes?”

Midway through taking a sip of my wine, I nearly choked and spit it out. Although he tried to be smooth, he was just as awkward as I was. “Last I checked, Phantom, you were a super spy, not a superhero.”

“Hey. That’s just semantics.” He leaned back, eyes widening in mock offense. “I, too, am a superhero. Ask your brother—or even Houdini. Ask Houdini.”

I laughed again, taking another sip of my wine, savoring the rich flavor that danced on my tongue. It was a good bottle of red, one I’d been saving to share. As I lowered the glass, our eyes met, and something in my chest opened.

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