Chapter 10
Six months later.
I sat on the little wooden bench Clara had insisted we put by the garden fence, watching her pull weeds from her tomato plants, her hair in a messy ponytail, dirt smudged on her cheek.
She was six months pregnant.
Our baby girl was due in three months.
We’d found out two weeks after the wedding, and we’d both cried so hard we could barely breathe.
Life was quiet now.
I still ran the company, but I worked from home three days a week, so I could be with Clara.
The foundation was bigger than ever, helping more families every single day.
We’d just opened our tenth free medical clinic in a small town three hours away, and Clara had been there the day it opened, holding babies and hugging moms and making sure everyone felt welcome.
She was going to be the best mom in the world.
I already knew it.
She stood up, wiping her hands on her jeans, and walked over to me, waddling a little, her hand resting on her stomach.
“Those tomatoes are going to be the best you’ve ever tasted,” she said, sitting down beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“I don’t doubt it,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “Everything you touch turns to gold.”
She laughed.
“Cheesy,” she said.
“True,” I said.
We sat in silence for a while, watching the sun set over the garden, painting the sky pink and orange and purple.
“Can you believe it?” she said quietly. “All of this. Us. The baby. The foundation. Everything.”
I thought about the last year.
The crash.
The lies.
The wheelchair.
The humiliation in the ballroom.
Vanessa and Liam and all the rest of them, locked away where they could never hurt anyone again.
Clara kneeling beside me, her voice soft and kind.
The first time I’d held her.
The first time I’d kissed her.
The wedding.
Finding out we were having a baby.
All of it.
The worst day of my life had led me straight to the best life I could have ever imagined.
“Yeah,” I said. “I can believe it. Because I earned it. We earned it. We fought for it. And we deserve every single second of it.”
She lifted her head, looking at me, her eyes soft and warm.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too,” I said.
She leaned in, kissing me slowly, sweetly, her hand resting on her stomach between us.
Somewhere in the distance, a bird sang.
The tomato plants swayed in the soft breeze.
The sun dipped below the horizon, the first stars coming out one by one.
For so long, I’d thought justice was about punishment.
About making the people who’d hurt me pay.
About getting even.
But sitting there, holding Clara, feeling our baby kick against my hand through her shirt?
I realized I’d been wrong.
Justice wasn’t about them at all.
Justice was this.
Peace.
Love.
Safety.
A life full of all the good things they’d tried to take away from me, multiplied by a thousand.
They’d tried to break me.
They’d tried to take everything.
But all they’d really done was clear the way for something better.
Something real.
Something worth fighting for.
I held Clara tighter, resting my hand on her stomach, feeling our baby kick again, strong and healthy and alive.
We were safe.
We were loved.
We were whole.
May you like
And nothing was ever going to take that away from us again.
The end.
