Chapter 9
The first three months of Liam’s life were the happiest of my entire life.
They were also the hardest.
Sleepless nights.
Endless feedings.
Diaper changes at two in the morning.
Gwen struggled with postpartum anxiety.
Every time the doorbell rang, she would jump.
Every time a car slowed down outside the gate, she would grab Liam and hold him tight, convinced Brenda had come back to take him.
But we worked through it.
Therapy.
Medication when she needed it.
Me, right there beside her, every single step of the way.
Slowly, the fear faded.
She stopped checking the cameras every five minutes.
She stopped sleeping with her phone under her pillow.
She started leaving the house.
First just to walk around the block with Liam in the stroller.
Then to the grocery store.
Then to lunch with a friend.
Liam thrived.
He was a happy, fat, smiling baby who laughed at everything and slept through the night at eight weeks old, like he was already determined to make our lives as easy as possible.
Gavin came around.
Slowly.
At first, he just stood at the gate and waved.
Then he came in for coffee.
Then he held Liam.
Carefully.
Like he was made of glass.
He cried the first time Liam wrapped his tiny hand around Gavin’s finger.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt him,” he said, quiet, like he was making a vow. “Never. Not her. Not anyone. I swear it.”
I believed him.
We never went back to being the brothers we had been.
Too much had happened.
Too much had been broken.
But we built something new.
Something honest.
Something real.
And that was enough.
Brenda did not violate the restraining order.
Not once.
After the trial, she moved three states away, to a small town in Alabama where no one knew her name.
She got a job bagging groceries.
She paid her restitution every month, on time, no complaints.
She never called.
She never wrote.
She was gone.
And for the first time in my life, I did not feel guilty about that.
She had made her choices.
She had to live with them.
We had made ours.
And we were going to live with ours — happily, freely, and together.
Three days before Christmas, I came home from a quick trip to the office.
The house was quiet.
The Christmas tree was lit in the corner, covered in ornaments Gwen and I had made together, covered in ones Liam had chewed on.
Soft music played.
I walked into the living room.
Gwen was sitting on the rug in front of the fire.
Liam was propped up on a pillow between her legs, chewing on a reindeer stuffed animal, drooling happily.
She looked up when she heard me.
She smiled.
That smile.
The one I had fallen in love with in college.
The one I had almost lost forever.
“Hey, you,” she said.
I sat down beside her.
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.
I pulled her close.
Liam looked up at me, grinned, and dropped his reindeer.
I picked it up.
I kissed his soft, fuzzy head.
I kissed Gwen.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I said.
She leaned her head on my shoulder.
She watched the fire for a minute.
“I was just thinking,” she said, quiet. “About that day. When you came home. When you found me under the table. I thought — I really thought — that was it. That you’d choose her. That you’d think I was crazy. That I’d lose you. And the baby.”
She paused.
She looked up at me.
Her eyes were shiny.
“But you didn’t,” she said. “You chose us. You fought for us. You burned everything down to make sure we were safe. And now —” She gestured at the tree, at the fire, at Liam gumming his reindeer. “Now we have this. This perfect, quiet, happy life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you how much that means to me. How much you mean to me.”
I wiped the tear off her cheek with my thumb.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said. “I know. Because I feel the exact same way. Every morning I wake up and see you and Liam next to me? It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And I will spend every single day for the rest of my life proving that to you. That I’ll never leave you. That I’ll never let anyone hurt you. That you and Liam are my whole world. Always.”
She kissed me.
Soft.
Warm.
Perfect.
Outside, the first snow of the year started to fall.
Soft, white flakes drifting down past the windows.
Inside, the fire crackled.
May you like
Liam babbled happily.
And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt completely, utterly at peace.
