Page 46 of The Road Back Home

Dealla

I stand in the doorway and watch Holden deftly dry and clothe Ashton.

His movements are easy, practiced, and I wonder how I ever missed Holden’s efforts to become the man Ashton and I need him to be.

My fingers play with the pendant at the base of my throat as I fall that much more in love with Holden.

Forgiving him… It’s easier to do than being away from him.

A small part of me says I should have tried harder to get over him, but my heart tells me this is the right thing to do.

I’ve learned I can’t live without him, not really.

And it isn’t solely his fault that our relationship fractured so much.

I meant what I said, though: I can’t feel unimportant and neglected again.

I will leave and not look back. Not even if Holden were to crawl through fire and broken glass for them.

I can’t do this another time, I can’t put Ashton through the pain again.

I vow to put forth the efforts to keep our love alive.

With one last look at Holden, who carries Ashton against his chest, I turn and grab a bundle of fresh bedsheets from the closet.

My boyfriend keeps the toddler in his arms while I strip the bed of the sheets and mattress protector, replacing them quickly.

I carefully carry the soiled linens to the washing machine and drop them into the basin.

Soft singing comes from the bedroom as I pour detergent in, set the cycle, and press the start button.

The melodic beeps sound deafening in the quiet, and I hurry to pull the accordion doors shut.

Holden sways in place, rocks Ashton from side to side.

His voice is pitched low, oh so sweet, as he sings to the toddler.

“’Cause love like yours don’t come around, not in this quiet little town.

You got a way of turnin’ gray skies blue.

” His gaze meets mine, his lips quirk, and he continues, “I don’t need those city lights or chasin’ dreams that fade at night.

Long as I’m holdin’ on to you, I’m right where I belong. Yeah, I’m right where I belong.”

Ashton snuffles then, but he doesn’t wake even when Holden lowers him to his bed.

I brush my fingers along Holden’s shoulders as I make my way to the door, leaving him to finish saying his goodnights.

Busying myself with clearing away the dishes I’d left on the bar does nothing to give me distraction.

All I can focus on is everything I’ve felt and thought in the last week—longer, really.

But I know those fears can be laid to rest. It will take more hard work than I’ve ever known, and it will take time for us to find our footing again.

Loving Holden, being loved by him, is worth it all.

We brush our teeth together, no words necessary, then Holden leads me to my bedroom. We tiptoe to the bed, and he waits until I slide in between the sheets before he does the same. He doesn’t need to reach for me: I’m already moving into his space, resting my head on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Holden murmurs, and his chest vibrates under my ear with the words.

I press my fingertips more solidly against his skin. He doesn’t move when I turn my head to kiss his sternum. When I peer up at him through the dim light from the nightlight, it’s to find he’s staring at the ceiling. I frown and sit up.

“Holden—”

“You deserve better than I treated you.”

I stifle a sigh. “I know you’re sorry, honey, and I am, too. I could have just as easily told you what was wrong instead of running away like I did. Luci and Tristan made that point very clear.”

“Will you come back?” he whispers; his body tenses with the question, and I rest my palm on his chest. “It—it doesn’t feel like home without you two.”

“Absolutely. It’s right where I belong.”

Holden abruptly goes lax. He blows out a breath and settles further into the bed.

I smile a small smile painted with love.

The tenderness, the honesty, of this moment brings forth an aching beneath my breast. I curl into Holden’s side and let out a slow breath.

Pale moonlight filters through the window, striping across the floor in milky-white slats.

Holden plays with the ends of my hair, and I let the steady beat of his heart and his warmth, his presence, lull me to sleep.

When I wake, it’s to the sound of a toddler whispering to himself and a warm arm draped heavily over my waist. I smile to myself and let the weight reassure me that last night wasn’t a dream, Holden really showed up on my doorstep and we talked.

We promised to make this work. I carefully roll over, though Holden’s arm remains where it is.

Hazy eyes meet my gaze, and he gives me a sleepy smile. His fingers trail along the curve of my cheek as he whispers, “Morning.”

“Hi.”

“An’ Dee?”

Giggling, I lift my head and grin at Ashton where he sits on his bed.

His hair sticks up in dozens of directions as he beams back.

I gesture toward the space between my body and Holden’s, and Ashton doesn’t hesitate: He rushes across the room and clambers up onto the bed.

I glance at Holden and immediately dissolve into laughter.

I’ve missed this—the peaceful mornings waking with each other, the interruption of a child making a place for himself, the comfort in knowing Ashton and I are loved completely.

“An’ Dee?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Coffee?”

I stretch to grab my phone off the nightstand and check the time. “Sorry, little dude, it isn’t open for another hour.”

“Coffee, ’Den?”

Holden coughs to hide his chuckles. “Aunt Dealla said it’s closed right now. We’ll go later, though.”

“I coffee.”

“In a bit.” Holden rises up on one elbow when Ashton opens his mouth. “We will get coffee later. I promise. For now, why don’t we take a quick nap? There’s no way you got enough sleep.”

“No nap. You go bye-bye.”

My heart shatters at the toddler’s words. I close my eyes against the burning, but I can’t un-see the pain on Ashton’s face. I’d known he was sad about leaving Holden behind, but I hadn’t realized the hurt, the fears of abandonment, ran so deep. I should have known.

Warm fingers wrap around mine, squeezing gently, then Holden speaks. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’m gonna be right here with you always, okay?”

“Trust,” Ashton whispers after a long pause, the longest pause of my life.

“Trust, forever and ever.”

Though none of us sleep again, Ashton doesn’t try to get out of bed.

He stays in place, booping Holden’s nose and ‘singing’ to himself.

The seconds tick away until two hours have passed, and Holden promises to be right back and disappears into the bathroom.

I pull Ashton closer, murmuring a quiet apology for all the hurt I’ve caused him over the last week.

He doesn’t seem to care; he just pats my cheek and says, “I coffee now?”

I laugh in response then slip out of bed to prepare for the day.

I change Ashton’s diaper and clothes before focusing on my own outfit.

Holden rejoins us as I’m pulling on a pair of denim shorts, and he takes over readying the diaper bag.

We brush their teeth as a group, Holden carefully scrubbing Ashton’s teeth clean, then he reaches for the toddler’s hand.

I trail after them, smiling at the sight of the pair walking ahead of her, and lock the door once we’re in the corridor.

The silent drive would be disconcerting if it weren’t for the fact Holden seems just as content with no music to disrupt the serenity that’s settled in all around us.

He keeps his hand in mine as I drive, occasionally responding to whatever babbling comes from the backseat, but replies aren’t necessary.

Ashton seems content enough to fill the silence by himself.

The coffeeshop stands proudly at the end of a row of shops. Holden slows to a stop, staring at the building, and I frown.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” he replies. “Just thinking.”

I hesitate but ultimately decide to take him at face-value. I let out a soft laugh and poke his bicep. “Well, stop it. We’ve not even had coffee yet, so it’s far too early for something as annoying as thinking .”

Holden’s lips curve into a sweet smile, and he holds the door open to let Ashton and me enter first. There are only two other customers inside; both are middle-aged men and deeply engrossed in conversation while they wait for their orders.

I stifle a giggle when Ashton tugs on my hand, crouching to be on his level.

“Only to the case, okay? Anywhere else, and you go up.”

“No up!”

“Exactly. Go figure out what you want.”

I release his hand, and he immediately surges forward, skirts around the men, beelines for the glass-fronted counter. I sigh and stand upright, resting my head on Holden’s shoulder as we wait. He presses a kiss to my hair, and silently, we watch Ashton examine the pastries on display.

“I love you,” I whisper, the most glorious words I’ve ever spoken in a voice so soft, I wonder if Holden has even heard me.

The way his fingers tighten around mine assures me that he has.

It feels right, to say those words here and now.

The separation was Hell on Earth, but… I don’t regret it.

The distance has opened my eyes—his, too, judging by our conversation.

I know without a doubt that Holden is the only one I will ever want so wholly. My leaving was what we needed.

It’s baffling to think that. To know with complete certainty that if we’d never separated, we never would have lasted.

Everything had been too perfect, too good, for too long.

Now we are past the worst and stronger for it.

It has given way to the words I’ve kept hidden from him, though he is the only partner they’ve ever been meant so honestly for.

“I love you,” I murmur again.

Holden huffs out a laugh next to me. “I love you, too. Gonna keep saying it?”

“Only until I’m tired of saying it.”

“And when will that be?”