Chapter 15
When we got home from Italy, there was a letter waiting for me.
Handwritten.
Addressed in handwriting I’d know anywhere.
Evelyn’s.
My hands started shaking.
How had she gotten my new address?
I didn’t open it.
I called Karen.
I called the police.
I called the prison.
“Evelyn Carter has no business sending mail to your client,” Karen told the warden. “There’s a no-contact order. This is a violation. She needs to be punished. And her mail privileges need to be revoked permanently.”
The prison agreed.
They disciplined Evelyn.
Lost her mail privileges for a year.
Added thirty days to her sentence.
I still never opened the letter.
I burned it in the fireplace.
Watched the paper turn to ash.
Watched the words disappear.
It felt good.
Like I was burning the last of her hold over me.
That fall, Sophie started middle school.
I was a wreck.
Middle school is hard enough.
Middle school with a life-threatening allergy?
Terrifying.
But Sophie was ready.
She gave a presentation to all her teachers on the first day.
She showed them where she kept her EpiPens.
She told them exactly what to do in an emergency.
She made new friends.
She tried out for the volleyball team and made it.
She was thriving.
I started dating.
Nothing serious.
Just… putting myself out there.
Jessica had been bugging me about it for years.
“You’re young,” she’d say. “You’re hot. You’re successful. You need to get back out there.”
I’d met a few men.
Nice ones.
But no one special.
No one who made my heart race.
No one who got it.
Got what I’d been through.
Got why I was so careful with Sophie.
Got why I still had security cameras and extra locks and three EpiPens in every bag.
Most men thought I was overreacting.
“Allergies can’t be that bad,” they’d say.
And that was the end of that.
Until I met Tom.
He was a pediatrician.
Specialized in allergies.
We met at a conference where I was speaking.
He came up to me afterward.
“That was the best presentation I’ve ever seen,” he said. “You have a real gift. And your daughter sounds incredible.”
We talked for an hour.
About allergies.
About kids.
About life.
He was kind.
Smart.
Funny.
And he got it.
Completely.
He didn’t think I was overprotective.
He thought I was a good mother.
We went for coffee the next week.
Then dinner.
Then a movie.
He met Sophie after a month.
I was nervous.
So was he.
But Sophie loved him immediately.
He brought her a chemistry set.
And he knew exactly how to talk to an eleven-year-old girl.
Not too babyish.
Not too grown-up.
They spent the evening making slime and talking about science.
After he left, Sophie looked at me.
“Mommy,” she said. “I like him. A lot. You should keep him.”
I laughed.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
Tom and I took things slow.
Very slow.
I’d been hurt too badly before.
I wasn’t going to rush into anything.
Especially not with someone who would be in Sophie’s life.
But he was patient.
He never pushed.
He just showed up.
Every day.
With kindness.
With respect.
With love.
For both of us.
By Christmas, he was part of the family.
He came over for Christmas Eve dinner.
He watched Sophie open her presents.
He even wore the reindeer antlers she made him wear.
Afterward, we sat on the porch drinking hot chocolate.
Snow was falling.
Soft and quiet.
“I love you,” he said.
It was the first time he’d said it.
I looked at him.
At his kind eyes.
At his gentle smile.
“I love you too,” I said.
And I meant it.
May you like
For the first time since Daniel, I let myself fall.
And it was wonderful.
