Page 110 of Promise Me This
“You’re not alone in this,” she says simply.
I turn and really look at the woman who walked into my life without a plan and somehow became the center of it. Not just for me, but for my daughter too.
“No,” I agree. “I’m not. I have you.”
And for the first time, I let myself admit the truth, even if only to myself.
Losing control no longer scares me.
Losing this does.
I close the folder and lace my fingers with hers before giving them a squeeze.
I’m not just fighting for custody anymore.
I’m fighting for my family.
47
Kia
I wake up the next morning before anyone else. It has nothing to do with being well-rested and everything to do with my brain refusing to relax now that I’ve finally found something worth holding on to.
The room is still dark, the city beyond the windows muted and gray. I slip out of bed carefully, pausing when Laiken shifts beside me. Instead of waking, he turns slightly, one arm reaching out, searching the space I’ve left behind.
I stand there for a moment and study him. He’s strong even in sleep. He’s the kind of man who knows exactly where he belongs in the world.
And that’s with us.
The thought startles me.
Laiken belongs with Elody, and now, I belong with them.
I move quietly around the kitchen and start a pot of tea. Even though I barely drink it, my fingers stay wrapped around the mug like it’s an anchor, something solid enough to keep me from floating away as the steam curls upward.
I slip into the hallway and peek down the spacious passage. A thin strip of light glows beneath Elody’s door. After what happened with Collin, she can’t sleep without it.
The quiet stretches, but it’s heavy with all the thoughts I’ve been avoiding.
If the judge decides it isn’t safe for Elody to be around me, I won’t have a choice but to walk away. I refuse to be the reason Laiken loses his daughter. And then I won’t just lose a husband. I’ll lose the child I’ve come to love in such a short period of time. The one who asked to call me Mommy.
My love shouldn’t feel like a liability.
But right now, it does.
The bedroom door creaks open and tiny footsteps pull me from my mental spiral. I find Elody standing in the kitchen, hair sticking up in every direction, her bunny clutched in her arms.
“Mommy?”
“Hey,” I murmur. “What’s wrong? Couldn’t sleep either?”
With a shake of her head, she pads toward me, and I crouch, opening my arms. She climbs right in, curling against my chest, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
As if she’s mine in every way that counts.
“My tummy feels funny,” she whispers.
“Mine too,” I admit, stroking a hand between her shoulder blades.
