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Jo

J o sank into the couch and took the tea Hugo offered. It felt like years since she’d last been in her apartment, rather than a single day. She took a small sip, then set the mug back down carefully on the coffee table. “I need to call my mom.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Hugo said quickly.

Her hand shook around the phone. It’d been so long since she’d dialed that number, but it came easily to her. Her mother picked up on the second ring. “Jo. What’s wrong?” There was real fear in her voice. Of course there was. They hadn’t spoken outside the agreed weekly time in more than six months.

“I’m okay, Mom,” she rushed to say. Then paused. “Is Dad there?” She didn’t think she could tell the story twice. Hugo’s hand tightened against hers in that silent show of support she’d come to associate with him.

She heard her mother shouting for her father, then heavy footsteps. “Jolene? Sweetheart?”

Hearing her name—her full name—spoken in her father’s voice was cathartic. “Dad. Mom. So much has happened, but everything is okay now.” And then she told them everything. She glossed over the kidnapping quickly, focusing on the important parts.

Her father’s voice broke through the quiet moment. “Sweetheart, are you sure you’re safe now? Completely safe?”

“Yes, Dad. Hugo and his team have made sure of that. And Horns … he can’t hurt anyone anymore.” She’d identified Horns’s body in a photograph and had a long conversation with the FBI. He was gone.

“And the baby,” her mother said.

“The baby’s fine, Mom. Growing bigger.”

“And you’re not alone?”

“Hugo’s been with me every second, Mom.”

Her father exhaled a shaky breath, the sound of his relief tangible even through the phone. “I’m glad. I would like to meet this young man and thank him.”

Jo smiled, thinking how uncomfortable Hugo was going to feel with the inevitable praise.

“We can speak on the phone all the time,” her mother sobbed. “We can visit you.” Jo’s mother had always been perceptive. She didn’t say you can come back . She knows I’m not coming back .

“Yes,” Jo said simply. She felt her eyes getting moist. She hadn’t been sure the day would ever come—when she and her parents could simply meet up without fearing for their lives.

There was a pause, and then her mother spoke again, quieter this time. “We’ve missed you, Jo. Every single day.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Jo replied, her voice thick. She blinked quickly, trying to stave off tears.

After a few more exchanged promises and goodbyes, the call ended. Jo set the phone down, her hand lingering on it for a moment as if grounding herself in the connection. A small, relieved sob escaped her.

Hugo

Hugo leaned against the countertop, trying his best not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on in the other room. When she ended the call, though, and gave a small sob, he couldn’t help himself. He pulled himself upright and walked into the other room.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She looked up at him. Her luminous blue eyes were red-rimmed. “I’m okay now.” She paused. “It’d been so long since I was able to speak to both my parents.”

“They love you,” Hugo said, his voice gentle. He took her hand in his and squeezed.

Jo nodded, her lips curving into a small, tentative smile. “My mom’s already booking a ticket.”

Hugo tensed. “They’re coming to take you home?” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. It felt like a part of him—an essential part of him—was being ripped in two. This was worse than any pain he’d ever felt. Worse than when he’d woken up in the hospital, not knowing if he’d ever walk again. Back then, he’d thought losing his ability to walk was the worst thing that could happen to him. Now he realized he’d give it up in an instant, if it meant not losing Jo. But that wasn’t how things worked. He couldn’t force her to stay with him. He had to let her go.

Something in his voice made her look his way again. “Hugo?”

“I’m sorry.” He was being an asshole. He forced himself to keep his touch on her hand light—as if practicing for when he’d have to let her go. “I will help you with anything you need.” Even if it kills me.

She was quiet for a long instant. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “Not unless … unless you want me to.”

His body shook. He couldn’t help it. “You’re not leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. My parents are booking a flight to come see me.”

“Does that mean …?”

She tightened her hand around his and brought it to her belly. “It means yes, Hugo. Yes to everything you said. Yes to staying married. Yes to us becoming parents together. Yes to everything … if that’s still what you want.”

Hugo pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“Hey, careful,” she laughed.

Hugo peppered her face with kisses, ending with a sloppy kiss on her mouth. “If you’ll let me, I’ll take care of you always.”

“I’d like that. We’d like that,” she amended.

“We’ll get married.”

She laughed. “We can’t get married. We’re already married.”

“We’ll do it again.”