Page 4 of Broken Bodyguard

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” I kissed the top of Grace’s head, finally releasing her from the hug. When I stood, Grace beamed up at me and reached for my hand. “What do you think we should have for dinner tonight?”

Grace loved to help plan dinner. In fact, she was my right-hand girl in all areas of life, from selecting my outfits to prepping meals to organizing the craft area. That didn’t mean she was awayshelpful, of course, but she loved to try. And despite all the pain and uncertainty that my separation from her father had brought to our lives, part of me felt that I was living in paradise at the same time.

For the first time in alongtime, I knew what freedom tasted like.

Even if I wasn’t fully free from Jericho yet, I was so close.

All he needed to do was sign the divorce papers, and that chapter of my life would be done. Per Kentucky law, we had to be separated for a full year before the formal divorce could go through. And we’d hit that milestone late last year. Jericho always had an excuse for why he hadn’t finished his side of things. Logistically, it was simple, but Jericho was dragging his heels. I suspected it had to do with his not wanting to hash out a custody agreement or the division of our marital assets. At least, that was what my lawyer said. It was extra frustrating when we were so close to the finish line. Still, I chose to focus on the positives.

“I think we make sketti,” she said, accompanying me through the house as I dropped my tote bags from my day at the local elementary school, where I taught first grade. Luckily, even though Jericho had forced me to be a stay at home mom, it hadn’t been too hard to reactivate my teaching license and get back into the swing of things once I left him. I’d missed it more than I ever let myself realize during the hellish five years at that man’s side.

The only good things to come of those years? Grace. And my sister-in-law Mercedes.

Even after Jericho signed these dang papers and I was free of the Hendricks name, Mercedes would remain my soul sister.

In the kitchen, I found my mom chopping vegetables for a snack tray. Her gray-blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and her face lit up when she saw me.

“Hello, dear! You’re just in time for party prep.”

I smiled as we hugged. Having a soft place to land—at mom and dad’s house—after the separation was something I thanked them for every day. Their penchant for casual get-togethers helped me feel like life had direction and purpose, especially in those early months when I’d been so adrift and confused.

“Where’s the party tonight?” I checked my phone as Grace danced around us with excitement. It was almost six. My dad walked into the kitchen, humming to himself with some sort of air filter in his hand. One of the many random Dad Tasks he filled his evenings with. He paused to kiss the top of my head and continued on his way.

“We’re heading to Jerry and Susan’s house,” she said, crunching into a baby carrot. “And I’ve already got Grace on board, because their little granddaughter June is coming to play tonight.”

Grace squealed with excitement. “I want to play with June!”

I smiled down at her, relishing her enthusiasm. Her toothy grin. The way she twirled her lavender skirt, which I could barely get her out of, she loved it so much. Sometimes I wasn’t sure I could handle her beinganycuter.

But going to Jerry and Susan’s house tonight was not exactly what I wanted to do. After the long work week, I was dying for some quiet time in the bath.

“When are you heading over?” I reached for a broccoli floret.

She looked at her wristwatch, then resumed cutting. “In about twenty minutes.”

“Oh jeez.” I sighed, trying to imagine if I could scrounge up any energy formoresocialization. After wrangling six- and seven-year-olds all day, plus finishing up all my work so I could fully clock out this weekend, I wasn’t sure I could do much more than change out of work clothes and vegetate.

“I know what that sigh means,” my mom said, waving the knife in my direction. “And I’ll be honest—I won’t be mad if you don’t go.”

My shoulders slumped, an unexpected weight releasing from them. “You won’t?”

“I think you should have a night to yourself. It’s Friday. Go see a movie or something.”

I grabbed a slice of bell pepper and dipped it into the ranch dressing she’d just opened. “By myself?”

“You’re in your independent woman era. Didn’t you just tell me that the other day?”

“Well, yeah…” I munched thoughtfully, running my fingers through Grace’s silky blonde tresses. “I guess there are a few frontiers I haven’t explored yet.”

“You can go to the movies by yourself. Go shopping by yourself. Heck, you can even go out for dinner by yourself!” The knifethwackedagainst the cutting board as she cut into the final head of broccoli.

“We having sketti?” Grace asked, looking up at me. I cupped her heart-shaped face in my hands and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Well, it sounds like you and Grandma have plans.” As I spoke, I began to visualize what I might most enjoy for tonight. I thought it had been a bath, but now I was seeing something else: slightly upscale restaurant. Sitting at the bar by myself. Maybe even reading a book at the bar. A thrill of excitement raced up my spine. My plan was cemented. “You’re going to go play with June, and I bet they’ll have some yummy dinner over there.”

“Burgers,” Mom said.

“With cheese?” Grace asked.

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