~ Evie ~
It is seven months. Seven whole months since the courtroom, since Marcus got life and they dragged him away in cuffs. I can finally breathe again. Like, really breathe. No more waking up at night thinking I hear footsteps or a text buzzing with some new threat. Jack’s back at training, coming home every evening with that tired-but-happy smile, scooping up our boy and kissing me like the world didn’t almost end. Dad’s even started coming over for dinner twice a week now, grumbling about the shop but staying long enough to hold Donald and talk to me without that old angry edge in his voice. Claire bakes us cookies every Sunday. Life feels… normal. Good. Like I’m this whole, fulfilled woman who fought through hell and actually won.
I’m laughing at Donald trying to stuff my thumb in
