My pregnancy wasn’t easy.
There were complications.
There were appointments almost every week.
There were nights when I was terrified something would go wrong.
Garrison never pretended everything would be perfect.
Instead, he drove me to appointments when I needed him.
He cooked when I was too tired.
He fixed the broken porch step.
He took Ranger for walks.
And he never once tried to replace the father my children would have.
One evening, I asked him why he had helped me.
He looked at me for a long moment.
“My wife was blamed for something that wasn’t her fault.”
I remembered what he had told me that first night.
“She spent years believing she had failed me.”
His voice became quiet.
“I never forgave myself for not protecting her from that.”
I reached across the table and touched his hand.
“You couldn’t have known.”
“Maybe.”
He smiled faintly.
“But I know now.”
Chapter Ten: The Birth
The twins were born in early spring.
A boy and a girl.
Healthy.
Loud.
Perfect.
When the nurse placed them beside me, I started crying.
Not because my life had become perfect.
It hadn’t.
I still had scars.
I still had legal battles to finish.
I still had painful memories.
But I was no longer the woman standing outside her locked house with two suitcases.
I was no longer waiting for Julian to decide whether I was worthy.
I was a mother.
But more importantly, I was finally myself again.
Garrison stood near the doorway.
He looked uncomfortable holding the bouquet someone had given him.
“You can come closer,” I said.
He smiled.
Then he looked at the babies.
“They’re beautiful.”
“They are.”
He hesitated.
“Are you happy?”
I looked at my children.
Then at him.
“Yes.”
And for the first time in years, I meant it.
