Page 54 of Mad for Madison

His eyes lit up. They looked like sunrise. Like the first sunrise when the Earth was born. Was it possible that he hadn’t known this already? That he had been hoping to hear these words when I had felt it all along?

The moment the words left my lips, the world shifted. It was as if the air between us grew lighter, charged with something tender and electric yet impossibly fragile. Bradley’s gaze softened, and I could see it—the hope, the vulnerability, the deep well of love he’d kept for me even when I’d done everything to drive him away. How had I ever thought I could live without this?

His hands came up to cradle my face, his touch warm and grounding, and I leaned into it like a parched man finding water. The weight of my guilt pressed harder now, sharp and aching, but it didn’t stop me from holding his eyes, from soaking in the truth I saw reflected there. He loved me. Despite everything, he still loved me.

“I thought I’d ruined it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ruined us.”

Bradley’s thumb brushed the edge of my cheekbone, catching a stray tear. “You can’t ruin something that’s as real as this, Madison. You can dent it, sure. Scratch it up. But it doesn’t break. Not when it matters.”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back another wave of emotion, but it was futile. The tears came anyway, not from sadness but from relief. A raw, aching relief that made my knees weak and my chest ache with how full it suddenly felt. “I don’t know how to fix it. How to fix me. But I want to try. For you. For Lily. For us.”

“You don’t have to fix anything,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “You just have to let me love you. And you have to believe you deserve it.”

I closed my eyes, his words cutting through all the noise in my head, quieting the doubts that had shouted at me for so long. Could it really be that simple? Could I let myself be loved, flaws and all, without the fear of being left behind?

When I opened my eyes again, Bradley was still there, watching me with the patience and kindness I didn’t think I deserved. “I’ll try,” I whispered. “I’ll try every day.”

He smiled then, that beautiful, devastating smile that had first stolen my breath and now threatened to steal my heart entirely. “That’s all I need.”

And when he kissed me—soft and slow, like he was pouring every unsaid word and unbroken promise into me—I knew I was exactly where I had to be.

The party shifted the tone. It was almost like they all collectively released a sigh of relief after Bradley had kissed me and finally began to enjoy themselves. It lasted long into the night, according to the stories I heard the following day, but we didn’t stay. We mingled, we greeted people, and we rode the wave of elation that had filled the room. But when the clock struck nine, I took Bradley’s hand, and I told him where I wanted to be.

The car dropped us off in front of the building, and we climbed the stairs together. On the landing, I took his hand, kissed the back of it, then lifted my head and kissed him as deeply and passionately as if it would be the last kiss I had ever received. Or the first, the most promising one.

Bradley unlocked the door, and the thunder of tiny feet storming across the hallway greeted us before I saw them. Bradley entered the apartment. Dorothy wore a small smile onher face, waiting at the other end of the hallway, and Lily jumped happily in the middle, hugging Bradley’s leg and looking at me.

“Welcome home,” Bradley said, facing me.

The words hit me like a warm tide, washing over the jagged edges of my soul and smoothing them out.Welcome home. It wasn’t just a place—it was this, them, us. My chest felt tight, full to bursting with a joy so profound I thought I might float away from it.

Lily’s giggles were the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, and Dorothy’s knowing smile wrapped around me like a protective embrace. But it was Bradley’s eyes, soft and steady on mine, that anchored me. This was love, unshakable and whole, and I was standing right in the middle of it.

I didn’t deserve this. But I wanted to. I wanted to be worthy of everything in this moment, and for the first time, I believed I could be.

Taking a breath of air, I stepped across the threshold.

Epilogue

Eighteen Months Later

Madison

I never would have imagined standing here.The loft I’d converted into my studio felt different tonight, as though the very walls knew this was a pivotal moment. Every painting I had poured myself into was waiting to be taken away, no longer mine but ready to face the world.

The centerpiece of the collection—Reverence—stood against the main wall, bathed in soft evening light. It was the first piece I’d painted after finishingBradley, and its existence felt like the opening of a door I hadn’t known was locked. Sylvia Reed, the curator of the DiMarco Gallery, had told me this piece would anchor the entire exhibit, and I trusted her judgment more than I trusted my own.

Despite the warm summer evening, my palms felt cold and clammy. My breath hitched every time I thought about what was coming next: the crowd, the questions, the eyes on me.

The door creaked, interrupting the spiral of nerves.

“Knock, knock!” Bradley’s voice cut through my thoughts, light and familiar. He stepped in, his broad shoulders fillingthe doorway like a calming force. Lily skipped in behind him, holding something tightly in her hands.

“Madison!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “I made something for you!”

I crouched down as she barreled toward me, presenting the drawing like a priceless treasure. Her big brown eyes shone with pride.

It was a colorful chaos: swirls of marker and crayon, accented with glitter. Four stick figures stood beneath a brilliant yellow sun. I recognized myself immediately—my hair an exaggerated mess of curls—and Bradley and Lily flanking me, holding my hands. Next to Bradley, Dorothy held his other hand.

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