"Mom thought Todd was good too. In the beginning."
I flinched. I couldn't help it. Because she was right. In the beginning, Todd had been charming. Helpful. The kind ofman who brought flowers and fixed the leaky faucet and made my mother laugh for the first time in months. It wasn't until later that the mask slipped and we learned what truly lived underneath.
"I know." My voice cracked despite my best efforts. "I know she did. But I'm not Mom, Mia. I don't need someone to take care of me. I'm doing this with my eyes open, and I'm doing it for one reason only. To keep you safe. To make sure Todd never gets his hands on you again."
Mia pressed her lips together, fighting to keep her composure. Her eyes were shining, but she wouldn't let the tears fall. She'd learned that from me too.
"Do you trust me?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
She grabbed her backpack, shoved her chair back from the table, and headed out for school without saying goodbye. It was the first time she’d ever done that. The door slammed behind her like a verdict.
I sat alone in the silence, staring at her abandoned cereal, and wondered if I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
The courthouse steps were cold through the thin fabric of the dress that Lucy loaned me. It was nothing fancy. Soft blue, it was the kind of thing a normal woman might wear to a nice dinner or a job interview. I'd never owned anything like it. My closet was full of practical things: cargo pants, tank tops, oversized flannels I'd bought from the men's section because they were cheaper and I didn't have to think about how they fit. I didn't dress to impress anyone. I dressed for comfort.
But today I was standing on courthouse steps in a blue dress and low heels that made my ankles wobble, feeling more exposed than I had in years. Like I'd left my turnout gear at home and shown up to a fire in my underwear.
Liam's truck pulled into the parking lot. I watched him climb out, and something in my chest did a strange little stutter.
He was wearing a suit. Dark, well-fitted, clearly not cheap. It looked wrong on him somehow, like a costume he'd borrowed from someone else's life. I'd only ever seen him in station gear, the standard-issue navy pants and department T-shirts we all wore. I was surrounded by firefighters every day, men who stayed fit because the job demanded it, and I'd long ago stopped noticing. They were coworkers. Background. Part of the scenery.
But Liam in a suit was different. The way it sat across his shoulders, the way he moved in it—confident even though he clearly wasn't comfortable. For the first time, it hit me that Liam Murphy was actually handsome. Not in the obvious way some of the guys at the station were, with their gym selfies and carefully maintained stubble. Something quieter. Something that snuck up on you.
I shoved the thought aside. Dangerous territory.
He stopped when he saw me. Just for a second, just long enough for me to notice. His eyes traveled from the dress to my face, and something flickered across his expression. Surprise, maybe. Or something else I didn't have time to unpack. My skin prickled with sudden awareness. I suddenly didn't know what to do with my hands. Ridiculous. I'd stood next to this man in burning buildings.
"You look different." The words landed too close. I tugged at the hem of my dress, grounding myself in the familiar motion.
"It's the lack of turnout gear," I said, uncomfortable with his attention. "And the fact that I'm not covered in sweat and smoke."
He almost smiled. "The dress is nice."
"I don't usually dress like this. Lucy had to talk me into it."
"She has good taste."
We stood there for a moment, coworkers in costume, about to become husband and wife. A week ago, I wouldn't have picked Liam Murphy out of a lineup as my future spouse. The absurdity of it pressed against my ribs like a physical weight.
Cal and Lucy arrived before the silence could stretch too long. Lucy pulled me into a hug that lasted a beat longer than necessary, squeezing my arm as she pulled back.
"You okay?" Her voice was low enough that the men couldn’t hear.
"Fine."
She gave me a look that said she didn't believe me, but she didn't push. Lucy always knew when to let things be.
We went inside. The security guard waved us through the metal detector one by one, bored and barely looking up from his phone. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in that flat, washed-out glow that made everyone look slightly ill. Our footsteps echoed on the linoleum floors, too loud in the hushed corridors. The building smelled like floor wax and bureaucracy, that particular institutional scent that lived in courthouses and DMVs and every government building I'd ever set foot in.
Nothing about this felt like a wedding.
Nothing about this felt real.
I reminded myself that was the point. Keep your feet on the ground. That had always been my motto. Don't let hope make you stupid. Don't let wanting things cloud your judgment.
This was a legal transaction. Nothing more.
