Page 140 of Finders Keepers

He brings our joined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “You don’t have to thank me, Bailey. You and Sophie… There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, than with you two.”

I blink awake as we turn onto his long driveway, I can see Sophie, Nugget and Ms. Lucy waiting on the front porch. Sophie’s holding a homemade welcome home sign covered in glitter and flower stickers, and she’s bouncing on her toes.

“Mommy!” She waves as soon as we park, though Ms. Lucy keeps a gentle hand on her shoulder to keep her from running to the truck.

“Easy now, remember what we talked about,” I hear her saying as Gavin helps me down. “Mama needs gentle hugs right now.”

She nods, but I can see she’s practically vibrating with the effort to contain herself. Gavin steadies me as I walk toward the porch. I lower myself slowly to meet Sophie’s gaze. Once I’m steady, he releases his grip and I hear him tell Nugget to ‘sit’, which the dog does obediently. Nugget plops down right beside us, his tail drumming against the porch while his tongue lolls out the corner of his mouth.

“Hi, baby girl,” I whisper, opening my arms.

She approaches carefully, her little face serious as she gives me the gentlest hug.

“I missed you, Mommy,” she says into my hair. “Me and Ms. Lucy made you pudding. And look!” She points to her sign proudly. “I colored all the flowers myself!”

“This is so beautiful baby girl.” I rasp as I take it all in.

“Welcome home, sugar. Let’s get you inside and settled.” Ms. Lucy adds.

Gavin’s arm stays steady around my waist as we make our way inside. He guides me to the plush recliner by the fireplace, arranging pillows behind my back.

“Here, Mommy.” Sophie darts toward the kitchen. “We made some soup too.”

Ms. Lucy emerges from the kitchen carrying a bowl of something that smells delicious. “Now this here is my mama’s special recipe. Guaranteed to fix whatever ails you.”

The aroma of chicken, herbs, and fresh vegetables fills my nose as she sets it on the side table. Sophie returns with a spoon clutched carefully in both hands.

“I helped cut the carrots,” she announces proudly.

“She was quite the little chef,” Ms. Lucy winks at me. “Wouldn’t let me do anything without her supervision.”

They both go back into the kitchen to fix the rest of the bowls.

I look over to Gavin and see he’s watching me. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve all this.”

He kneels beside my chair, taking my hand in his. “You brought light back into my world, Bailey. After my dad passed, I wasn’t myself and then you and Sophie came along bringing joy back into my life. This house was just a shell of a building and now it feels like a home.” His eyes shine with emotion. “You two are the best things to have ever happened to me.”

I squeeze his hand, overwhelmed by what I feel for this man who’s opened his heart to not just me, but my daughter as well.

I’m here surrounded by the people I’ve come to love and something inside me finally breaks. Not in the way things have broken before, not like the fracturing fear when Matt would raise his voice, not like the splintering panic when I decided to flee with Sophie in the middle of the night. This breaking feels different. It’s like ice thawing after a long winter.

I take a shuddering breath, and suddenly I’m crying. Not the quiet, hidden tears I’ve trained myself to shed silently so no one would hear me, but deep, body-wracking sobs that seem to come from somewhere ancient inside me.

“Bailey?” Gavin’s voice sounds alarmed as he moves closer.

I can’t speak. I just shake my head slowly, trying to reassure him through my tears that I’m okay, better than okay. Sophie appears from the kitchen, her little face crumpling in concern.

“Mommy? Does it hurt?” She reaches for my hand, her touch feather-light against my skin.

“No, baby,” I manage between sobs. “Sometimes… sometimes people cry when they’re happy too.”

She looks up at me and I pull her in for a hug that she eagerly returns, and I kiss the top of her head.

Ms. Lucy quietly guides Sophie back toward the kitchen, murmuring something about checking on the pudding, and giving me a moment.

Gavin doesn’t try to shush me or tell me everything’s okay. He just gently grabs hold of my hand again, his thumb making those gentle circles against my palm as I cry out years of tension and fear.

“It’s over,” I whisper, the realization hitting me fully for the first time. “It’s really over.”

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