But my tiny apartment offered no love, safety, or security. It was as if I’d been visiting my apartment lately when I should have been home with Sam.
The bottom of the bag gave out before I hit the second step.
“No!”
Glass shattered. Sauce splattered. Strawberries rolled, bruising with each bounce. I froze blinking down at the mess. Looking around for someone to help, I knocked on the nearest door. My elderly neighbor handed me a roll of paper towels and reusable bags. At least someone cared enough to help me.
By the time I finished cleaning up the mess and gathering what was left of my groceries, my hands were shaking. I didn’t want to handle everything on my own anymore.
I deluded myself into thinking that being away from all the people who loved me was some sort of test from the universe that if I passed, would prove how independent I was. Fumbling for my phone, I opened up the text Sam sent yesterday. The one where he told me he loved me and was thinking about me. He was all I had been thinking about.
Brushing away tears and ignoring how loudly my heart thudded, echoing in my ears, I texted him.
Please come get me, Daddy.
The bubbles blinked for a few seconds, then his reply came through.
Are you okay?
I nodded as if he could see me.
Yes, physically, but I need you.
On my way, babygirl. Hold tight. See you soon.
My breath caught. No harsh words or accusations of me demanding he drop everything for my foolish pride. Not that he’d ever talked to me in that way. Sam was the most patient man I’d ever known.
The tears I’d been keeping at bay burst out of my eyes while I wailed. My heart ached without him. I’d had two weeks of what it felt like to be safe, seen,his. And I’d stupidly thought that things would be better apart. That I’d be okay. I wasn’t okay. Not without him.
Closing my eyes, I clutched my phone to my chest as if I could hug Sam through the device. He was on his way to the city. To me.
I was supposed to go to work tomorrow. But I hadn’t been happy there since I started. Before I could overthink, I sent a resignation email to my boss. Done.
Hours later and I hadn’t been able to do anything other than put away the few salvageable groceries and eat a snack. I was still wearing my work clothes and my knees were scraped up from the concrete stairwell landing in my attempt to catch the falling groceries.
My front door eased open, and Sam walked through. I hadn’t heard him knock but he was already shutting and locking it behind him. He wore a dark blue Henley, sleeves pushed up over those forearms that made my pulse skip. His eyes swept the room, then landed on me.
My knees were scraped, mascara smudged, and I was curled up small on my sad excuse for a couch. I tried to stand, but my legs had other ideas. Sam was across the room before I could blink, crouching low in front of me like I was something fragile.
“Hey, little wildflower,” he said, voice low and warm and steady as the warmth of his palms bleed into my thighs. “I’ve got you now.”
That was all it took. I reached for him and he gathered me up like I weighed nothing. One arm under my legs, the other across my back. He didn’t care about the sauce-stained skirt or the milk I’d spilled on myself hours ago. He didn’t flinch at the tremble in my breath or the way I clung to his shirt like a lifeline.
“You’re safe, babygirl,” he whispered into my hair. “Daddy’s here.”
I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in—clean, familiar, grounding. “I tried,” I said, voice cracking. “I really tried.”
“I know you did,” he murmured, brushing his lips across my temple. “But you don’t have to do it alone anymore, sweetheart.”
His arms tightened around me.
“I hate all of this,” I admitted, barely above a whisper. “My heart has been aching so bad, Daddy. I’m hollow and empty without you. I quit my job!”
His hand slid up and down my back in slow, reassuring strokes. “My heart is aching too, baby girl. Since the second you left. I promise we’ll figure it out.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Mickie. Let’s go home.”
