So Midnight Haven opened its doors wider.Now we help whoever needs it.People fleeing abusive homes.Young mothers escaping dangerous men.Teens with nowhere else to go.Women who need a fresh start and a locked door and a soft bed and someone to look them in the eye and promise them they’re safe now.
I know what it means to need that, and maybe that’s why this work feels so important to me.
I handle Logan’s books, but I also manage the accounting for Midnight Haven.Emergency funds, grants, payroll, supply reimbursements, housing support, transportation arrangements.It’s not glamorous, but it matters.Every number I enter means somebody gets a room for another week.A child gets clothes that fit.A frightened woman gets to sleep without wondering if the man she fled will find her.
Five years ago, I arrived here with nothing.Now I help make sure no one else has to start from zero.
Logan studies me for another beat, then sighs.“Ten minutes.”
I grin.“You drive a hard bargain.”
He grunts, which in Logan language means I’m lucky he’s in love with me.
Rosie slides off my lap.“Can I play with Daddy now?”
“Please do,” I say.
She launches herself at him with all the dramatic flair of a child who has never once doubted she’ll be caught.
Logan stands with Rosie in one arm and the lopsided bear in the other hand, examining it like it belongs in a museum.
“Looks good,” he says, smiling softly at our daughter.
“Thanks,” she says proudly.
She throws her arms around his neck, and just like that, the big, grumpy bear shifter who once wanted nothing more than to be left alone is standing on our porch holding our daughter like she hung the moon.
I watch them for a second too long, emotion crowding my chest, because there are still moments like this, even now, where it all feels unreal.
I spent so much of my life feeling unwanted, out of place, like I was an inconvenience to the people who were supposed to love me.Then I ran through the woods, half-starved and terrified, and collapsed at the feet of the one man who would spend the rest of his life proving I would never be unloved again.
Rosie points toward the yard.“Can we go by the creek?”
Logan looks at me first.Always me first.It’s such a little thing, but it still gets me every time.He could just say yes.He could make the decision himself.But Logan has never once treated me like I don’t get a say in my own life.Protective?Absolutely.Territorial?Without question.But never controlling.Never dismissive.He guards.He doesn’t cage.
I smile.“Stay where I can see you.”
Rosie cheers.
Logan sets her down, but before she can bolt away, he catches the back of her shirt.“No running near the rocks,” he tells her.
“Okaaay.”
“And don’t go in the water unless I’m there.”
“Okaaay.”
“And if you see a snake?—”
“Daddy,” she says, annoyed.“I know.”
He lets her go, and she races down the porch steps with her bear in hand, little sandals slapping against the wood.
Logan watches until she reaches the edge of the yard, then finally turns back to me.“Ten minutes,” he repeats.
I smile up at him.“You already said that.”
“Just making sure you heard me.”
