“Thank you… for not letting go of me.”
He kisses my forehead, then my temple. “Never.”
And just like that, the world stops spinning. Not forever. Not completely.
But for now, here, in his arms—it’s peaceful.
He shifts us gently, pulling me onto his lap like I weigh nothing, like I’m not curled in on myself and frayed at every edge. One arm wraps around my waist, the other strokes my hair with a patience that undoes me more than anything else could.
I tuck my head under his chin, letting the steady beat of his heart ground me.
“I just wanted her to say she was proud,” I whisper.
Elijah is quiet for a moment, then: “I know.”
“She didn’t even ask if I was okay.”
“Because she’s not capable of giving you the kind of love you deserve.” his voice soft.
Those words strike somewhere deep and unsteady in my chest. Because he’s right. And it still hurts.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, princess.”
I feel the words pushing up from where I keep all the things I don’t say. “Sometimes I feel like I’m too much. Like I ask too much. Feel too deeply. Break too easily.”
His arms tighten around me. “No. You’re not too much. The world just doesn’t always know what to do with something real.”
I pull back slightly, just enough to see his face.
“I’m trying to be okay,” I admit.
“I know,” he says. “And I’m going to help you get there. However long it takes.”
There’s something in his eyes—something fierce and vulnerable all at once—and it makes my throat close up.
“Elijah, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He smiles, but there’s nothing casual in it. “Luckily, you won’t have to find out.”
I lean in and kiss him—soft and slow, more gratitude than heat. But he kisses me back like I’m made of something rare, something precious. Like nothing else in the world matters except the feel of my mouth on his.
When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against his. “Can we just stay like this for a while?”
“As long as you need, princess.” His thumb brushes along my cheek. “You’re safe now. We’ll face whatever comes next—together.”
And even though I don’t know what the next day will bring, for the first time in a while, I believe that maybe—just maybe—I don’t have to go through it alone.
Chapter thirty-six
Ava
Itesthim.Idon’t mean to—not exactly. But there’s a stubborn, nervous part of me that still doesn’t believe this is real. That he’ll stay. That rules won’t turn into punishment like I'm used to. That he won’t end up using the silent treatment as a weapon. Deep inside, I know Elijah is not my ex-husband, or like my mother.
So when he says, “Lights out at 10,” I nod like a good girl.
And then I stay up past midnight reading.
