“I wasn’t sure how many to grab,” he said, glancing up at me. “I got about a week’s worth?”
“That’s perfect,” I said, clearing my throat. “There’s a crochet blanket in her crib—the blue one that Chelsea made. And her books are on the shelf.”
He nodded and disappeared back into the nursery. I heard him moving around, the soft thud of books being stacked, and I tried to focus on my packing.
My eyes landed on the photo frame on my nightstand. The one I had taken at Lily’s six-month milestone, both of us laughing at something Jack had said behind the camera. I picked it up, my thumb tracing over our faces, and carefully wrapped it in a shirt before tucking it into the suitcase.
Jack wasn’t in the photo.
Just me and Lily. Just us.
Derek returned with an armful of Lily’s things—the blue crochet blanket draped over his shoulder, books tucked under one arm, and he had also found her favorite stuffed elephant. He arranged everything in the suitcase with careful precision.
“Is there anything else?” he asked gently. “Anything important you don’t want to leave behind?”
I looked around the bedroom that had been mine, trying to figure out if there was anything here I actually wanted to take. Most of it felt tainted by what had happened. The furniture Jack and I had picked out together. The curtains I had hung.
“No,” I said with a sigh. “I think that’s everything.”
Derek nodded and zipped up the suitcase, hefting it off the bed. As he did, I saw him pause by the bookshelf in the corner. His eyes landed on something, and before I could see what it was, he tucked it under his arm.
“Ready?” he asked, turning back to me.
I took one last look at the bedroom. At the unmade bed and the life I was leaving behind.
All I felt was relief.
“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “Let’s go.”
We made it to the front door before I noticed he was carrying something extra, but hiding it from my gaze. “What’s that?”
Derek glanced down at the suitcase and the bag of Lily’s things, looking innocent. “Just making sure we’ve got everything.”
As he loaded everything into his car and I slid into the passenger seat, I let myself take one breath and then another.
The hardest part was over.
His hand found mine again when he started the engine, and this time, I didn’t pull away. It felt comforting how his hand was large and warm, completely covering mine.
“You did well,” he said proudly, his blue eyes soft and clear.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I said, squeezing his hand back. “I don’t think I could have done it alone.”
“You never have to do anything alone,” Derek said, and the promise in his voice made my heart skip. “Not while I’m breathing.”
As we pulled away from the apartment complex, I didn’t look back. There was nothing there I wanted to see. Nothing there worth holding onto.
Everything that mattered was either sitting beside me or waiting for us back at the penthouse.
9
DON’T YOU DARE
DEREK
Three fucking days. That’s how long Paige had been living in my penthouse, and I was already losing my mind.
Not because she was difficult. The opposite, actually. She fit into my space as if she had always belonged there. Her coffee mug beside mine in the morning. Lily’s toys scattered across my living room floor. The sound of Paige humming while she made breakfast, completely off-key and so fucking perfect.
