Page 76 of From the Ashes

Always patient.

He kisses the backs of my hands like a knight kneeling to his queen and murmurs, “I’ll kiss every inch of you until you no longer think you’re not good enough. To me, you are perfect. Where you see a flaw, I see a story. Where you see a scar, I see strength.” My insecurities soften under his words. The ones I needed to hear to finally let go. My stretch marks, my scars, they won’t push him away. My past that is written all over my skin isn’t scaring him, and my heart skips a beat at the thought of it. True love doesn’t hurt you or leave you in pieces. True love builds you back up and heals you in the most beautiful way. I nod, tears filling my eyes, and I lean in to kiss him.

“Promise me we’ll always stay this way,” I whisper, wishing I could freeze this moment in time. He grins, a little, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Always Lana, always.” Then he takes my face in his calloused hand and gently pushes me to the middle of the bed, leaving room for his giant body to cover mine. I run my fingers on his jaw and revel in the way he looks at me with his heart-stopping blue gaze.

“I never thought…” he stops himself, his tone low, mesmerized.

“Neither did I,” I murmur back, because I don’t even need him to finish his sentence to know what he wants to tell me. That he never thought he could find the right person to love him for who he is. I know it because I feel it too.

“I love you, sweetness,” he tells me before kissing me deeply, and this time, I don’t shy away or get self-conscious. This time, I unfold like a flower bathing in the sun, our eyes never breaking contact, as if we both knew that this moment was monumental, earth-shattering. Our journey has just begun, but I know I’m on the right path now, holding the hand of the man who will love me and protect me every step of the way.

“I love you,” I say softly, like a chant. Eager to tell him my love again and again until the end of time. His care makes the thick layer of paint I had worn like a cloak of shame slowly fade. His love washes all of it away. The hurt. The bruises. The unbearable guilt. Tomorrow, the sun will rise again, but this time, I’ll leave the shadows of my past behind and step into this new beginning with Carter by my side. I shut my eyes and breathe him in, tucking myself into the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around me like a shield. He holds me close as we become one breath, one heartbeat, one quiet promise. Later, I rest my cheek against his chest while his fingers trace slow circles along my back, both of us wrapped in a sacred kind of silence that belongs only to us.

“You okay?” he murmurs, and I can feel his gaze fixed gently on me.

“Yes…more than okay,” I assure him with a soft smile. “I know it’s not even lunch yet, but…how would you feel about pancakes?” I ask quietly, smiling against his skin as I hear the quiet rumble of his chuckle.

“Pancakes sound perfect, sweetness,” he says, kissing the top of my head, and I sigh.

Perfect.

Yes, that’s the word.

The End

EPILOGUE

CARTER

6 years later

“Come on, you’ve got this,”I mutter, holding my breath as I watch Noah’s every move on the soccer field. Some of the other kids like to get rough with him, knock him off balance, and I have to take deep breaths to not intervene. I stand there, my fists clenching, but my feet never leave the sidelines. Even after all these years, every Sunday practice, every game, I’m still here, still watching like it’s the first time. He’s ten now and got his first big game last year. The way he looked at me after he scored the winning goal, I thought I’d blinked too hard. I could’ve sworn something got in my eye.

“Come on, Noah!” Lana shouts, cupping her hands around her mouth. Her long hazelnut hair falls on her yellow summer dress. The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I have to stop staring at her or I’ll miss the rest of the game, so I lace my fingers with hers instead. She only comes to the big games. She says the others are for the two of us, bonding time as she calls it. Even if Noah and I aren’t blood, over the years, it kind of became like it.

Ben’s been out of the picture for a long time. Six years ago, she reported him for domestic abuse. The videos Lana took showed enough to get him three years inside; the judge called it “aggravating behaviors.” She made me promise not to kill him, and I kept that promise. But if he ever comes back, I won’t think twice about breaking it. Not that I think he will. He’s clear across the country now, playing family with a new wife and a new kid. Noah’s better off without a useless father figure dragging him down.

Three years back, we sat him down at the kitchen table. Told him he could have a relationship with his dad if he wanted. He shook his head, eyes full of tears. That was all we needed to hear. Good for him. He’s better off.

Noah’s growing into a smart, independent kid, and I’m proud of how we’ve figured it out. He looks to me when he wants to learn about something, whether it’s motorcycles or how to tie a knot. When he was seven, his teacher asked the class to do a presentation on their dad. Noah chose me. He showed it to us the night before, and I almost choked on my lasagna. There he was, standing tall with a large piece of paper where he had glued pictures of motorcycles and bodyguard characters from movies, explaining why I was his hero and why he loved spending time with me. I couldn’t find the words that evening, so I hugged him tight.

Noah’s running down the field now. He’s got the ball, and then, with a quick flick of his foot, it’s in the net. I jump up, clapping my hands, shouting his name. His little face looks up, his brown hair bouncing as he spots us. He waves. I glance at Lana. Her eyes are shiny, and she quickly wipes at them.

“You okay, sweetness?” I ask the most beautiful and smart woman who has ever lived.

“Yeah…” she murmurs, smiling. “I love watching you two like this. He… He’s so happy.” She leans against me, her chocolate hair resting on my shoulder.

“That was a hell of a move!” Ares calls from beside me, his palms squeezing my shoulder, his voice loud as usual. Mia, sitting next to him, watches the game with a soft smile. Ares strokes her arms while she rests her glittery nails on her round belly. Their son, Atlas, is getting chased by his little sister, Cassia, who happens to have the exact same fiery personality and red locks as her mother. That man must never be bored at home, that’s for sure. I invited him and Vox today, wanted Noah to know we’re all here. Nancy, Alec, and the girls are scattered around, and Ava is holding up a banner she made just for him. The girls are giggling as they wave it.

Vox elbows me, grinning. “Hard to not intervene, huh?” I stay silent, but my chest rises a bit higher. I watch Noah as he gets the ball again. He’s making his move when another kid comes charging from behind, pushing him hard enough to send him off balance. I’m already on my feet, fists tight. But the ref’s whistle blows, and the kid’s caught. Noah gets up, brushing dirt off his shorts like it’s nothing. I sit back down slowly, still feeling the tension running through me.

“It’s a little rough,” I mutter, but Lana’s eyes on me are enough to keep my cool in check.

“He’s not five anymore; he can handle it,” she tells me with a soft smile.

I shrug, keeping my tone even. “Maybe. But I don’t like that.”

“Hey, cool down, Papa Bear.” Ash grins as he settles with a bag of popcorn in a seat below while Vox’s daughter, Lily, is trying to put her hand into the sugary thing, and he looks away. Mia grabs Ares’s jaw and kisses her husband. “You’ll be doing the same with Atlas soon enough.”

“I’m kidding, Cart. Don’t worry about the kid,” Vox tells me with a grin.

Easy for him to say, he’s got two girls who don’t play soccer. I’d like to see him try to keep his cool if one of them got pushed. I heard he lost it when a daycare worker called his youngest “too shy.” Their daughters are playing on the row below, the younger one, Mila, struggling to stand on her tiny legs. Rose signs something to Vox, then both of them exchange a long look like they have their own secret language.

He grunts. “Rose says I shouldn’t be cocky ‘cause girls can drag a shit ton, huh, trouble.” He clears his throat ‘cause he's trying so damn hard not to swear in front of his girls. “But I doubt we’ll have any since I'll drive away any guy standing too close to them before they’re eighteen.” To that, Rose seems to laugh quietly.

As I watch Noah play, I can’t help but think back to our wedding day. It was simple, nothing like the big ceremonies you see in movies. Lana and I decided it should be just us, in her house, which is now ours. I’d never been the kind of guy to care much about big events. All that mattered was the day itself and the way she smiled at me as I vowed to love her forever. Noah held the rings. It wasn’t a grand affair, but in some ways, that made it even better. The three of us, and that was enough.

I never thought back then that one day this would be my life. That I could rise from the ashes and find happiness. I didn’t think the word could ever mean something for someone as broken as me. And yet I have it now, every single day of my existence with Lana, and honestly, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.