Page 265 of Only Be Mine

“I saw,” I called back.

And I realized something quietly.

I wasn’t scanning the edges of the park.

I wasn’t mapping exits.

I wasn’t calculating danger.

I was just… here.

Brent shifted his weight. “I don’t usually do this,” he began, then hesitated, clearly debating whether to continue. “But if you ever wanted to grab coffee sometime… I’d like that. No pressure. And if that’s weird, just pretend I never said it.”

I studied him.

There was no urgency in his eyes.

No entitlement.

Just an offering.

For a second, the past tried to rise up - courtrooms, sirens, the sound of metal crushing against asphalt.

Then I looked at Johnny.

At Ellie dragging him back toward the swings.

At the mountains standing witness to none of it.

And I felt it, the quiet difference between fear and caution.

I wasn’t afraid.

I was careful.

And careful didn’t mean closed.

“Coffee sounds nice,” I said.

Brent’s smile spread slowly, not triumphant. Just warm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded once, satisfied but not pushing for more.

We sat there together, watching the kids.

Johnny pumped his legs high on the swing, Ellie shrieking with delighted competition beside him.

For a long time, I had believed survival was the goal.

Just survive.

Just get through it.

Just make it to tomorrow.

But sitting there beneath the wide Colorado sky, with pine-scented air in my lungs and my son’s laughter echoing across the grass, I understood something different.

The future didn’t feel like something to endure anymore.

It felt like something I could step into.

And this time…

The choice would only be mine.