25. Destiny
25
DESTINY
M y grip on the steering wheel is tighter than it needs to be as I navigate the winding road to the cottage. I’m driving slower than I have to and it’s a good thing I’m alone on the road. Other drivers would have cussed me out for my snail’s pace, and I wouldn’t have blamed them.
Avery's soft coos from the backseat remind me to breathe. We're safe. We're okay.
"It's alright, baby girl," I murmur, more to myself than to her. "Mommy's got you."
The events of the past few hours replay in my mind like a broken record. The paparazzi car veering too close, pushing us to the side. Nearly losing complete control and going off the road.
My heart racing as I slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding disaster. It was a really close call.
Then the sickening crunch of metal as the paparazzi vehicle crashed behind us. It was the worst kind of sound, but also not what I expected, somehow.
Calling 911, my heart beating so fast that I was scared I’d have a heart attack right there.
I shake my head, trying to clear the memory. We were lucky. So damn lucky.
The hospital visit was a blur of concerned nurses and doctors, their hands gentle as they checked us over. "Just a precaution," they'd said, but the worry in their eyes spoke volumes.
Now, as the familiar landscape of the countryside rolls by, I feel the tension slowly leaving my body.
The cottage is close. Our safe haven.
I don’t even want to think about what could have happened, but of course my mind keeps going there. If Avery had been hurt?—
I shake my head, frowning. "Just don’t." I say to myself. Best to be grateful for being here with her and being alright.
My thoughts suddenly, unnecessarily, jump to Adam's words.
"I'm not condoning this type of behavior."
The hurt bubbles up again, threatening to choke me. The pain drives away all my previous thoughts. How could he? After everything we've been through?
I take a deep breath, focusing on the road ahead. The cottage comes into view, its familiar silhouette a welcome sight.
When I pull into the driveway, I allow myself a small smile. We made it.
I pull up to the cottage, the gravel crunching under the tires. The familiar sight of the rustic wooden structure brings a wave of emotions crashing over me. Memories flood back, unbidden and unwelcome.
I’m reminded of a time when Adam looked at me like I was his world, when the world was colorful through my rose-tinted glasses.
That world seems galaxies away now.
"We're here, baby girl," I whisper to Avery as I turn off the engine.
The silence that follows is deafening. No city noise, no paparazzi, just... peace. Just as I wanted. And yet, it's anything but peaceful in my mind.
I step out of the car, my legs wobbling slightly. The stress of the day catches up with me as I breathe in the crisp mountain air. It smells like pine and possibilities—just like it did when Adam and I first discovered this place.
"God, what happened to us?" I mutter, once shaking my head as I move to get Avery from her car seat.
I carry her towards the front door and my eyes catch on the porch swing. Adam and I spent countless evenings there, planning our future, dreaming big dreams. Now look at us.
Inside, everything is exactly as we left it. A thin layer of dust covers the furniture, but otherwise, it's like stepping back in time. I half expect to see Adam lounging on the couch, tablet in hand, working on his latest project.
"This used to be our escape," I tell Avery, who's looking around with wide, curious eyes. "Mommy and Daddy would come here when the world got too loud."
I settle her in her portable crib and sink onto the couch, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. Disappointed, I sigh. The quiet I so desperately craved now feels oppressive. It's too easy to hear my own thoughts, too easy to remember.
"Why did we stop coming here?" I ask the empty room. "When did we let the noise win?"
Avery’s noises from her crib pull me back to reality. I force myself up, muscles protesting, and make my way to her.
"Hey there, little one," I coo, scooping her up. "Ready for a tour of our temporary home?"
I wander through the cottage, narrating to Avery as we go. "This is where Mommy and Daddy learned to make chocolate chip cookies. It didn’t turn out very well and we had to throw them away." I chuckle at the memory.
Once I’ve shown her everything of interest, I give Avery her bottle and it doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep.
Counting my blessings to have such a sweet and peaceful child, I lay her down in her crib for her nap.
Time to focus on the task at hand—making sure the cottage is actually a liveable space.
On closer inspection, the place is super dusty, a testament to how long it's been since our last visit. I grab a rag from under the sink and start wiping down surfaces.
I’ve just finished dusting almost everything off when Avery’s noises grab my attention. I glance at my phone, it’s been an hour since I put her down.
"All done napping?" I ask her, hugging her close. She doesn’t seem hungry so shift her to my hip and use one hand to continue my cleaning.
"We've got some work to do, don't we?" I tell her, sneezing as dust motes dance in the air. "But we'll make it cozy."
Hours pass as I clean—it takes longer than expected given that I can only use one hand—my mind wandering to happier times.
By the time I finish, the sun is setting, casting long shadows across the floor.
"How about a fire, Avery?" I ask, setting her down in her stroller. "It's not cold, but it'll be nice and warm."
I stack logs in the fireplace, memories of Adam teaching me how to build the perfect fire flooding back. The match catches, flames licking at the kindling. Still got it.
"There," I say, satisfied. "That's better."
As night falls, I realize how unprepared we are. "We need to go shopping tomorrow, cupcake," I tell Avery, jotting down a list. "There's a little store down at the garage. We'll stock up in the morning."
I curl up on the couch, Avery in my arms, watching the fire flicker. For now, in this moment, we're safe. We're okay. And that's enough.
When the clock strikes nine, I put Avery back in her crib, her tummy full after her last feeding for the night.
I make myself comfortable on the couch, a steaming cup of tea warming my hands, expecting a peaceful night. It’s about damn time. Things have been so complicated and intense lately, this moment is a luxury I intend to fully appreciate.
A sharp knock at the door shatters the peaceful silence. My heart leaps into my throat, and I spill some of the tea all over my shirt.
"Shit," I mutter, carefully setting the cup down on the coffee table.
Another knock, more insistent this time. My mind races. Who could it be? The paparazzi? But how would they have found us here?
Oh, God. Please don’t have them disturb my little sanctuary!
I tiptoe to the window, peeking out through a gap in the curtains. The porch is cast in shadow, making it impossible to see who's out there.
There’s no sign of the glint of cameras or the murmur of paparazzi excitedly talking to each other, hoping to catch me off guard.
My parents flash through my mind. Could it be them? But they wouldn't just show up unannounced, would they? They'd call first...I’m not even sure they have this address, though I could have given it to them at some point.
Suddenly, I realize I haven't checked my phone in hours. I scramble to find it, buried under a pile of baby clothes I'd been folding earlier. The screen lights up, revealing several missed calls and messages.
My stomach drops. What if something happened? What if they've been trying to reach me?
The knocking comes again, louder this time. I jump, my nerves frayed.
"Just a minute!" I call out, my voice shaky.
I glance at Avery, sleeping peacefully in her portable crib. Should I wake her? No, better to let her sleep through whatever this is.
Rummaging through my bag, I grab a clean shirt and yank off the now tea-stained one. Clean and dry, I take a deep breath and I approach the door.
My hand hovers over the knob, trembling slightly. I steel myself, then slowly turn the handle.
I take another deep breath and exhale slowly, steeling myself as I reach for the doorknob. The cool metal sends a shiver through my palm.
Why am I being so damn dramatic? Breathing in more than someone doing yoga. You’d think I’m in some kind of cheesy horror film where the killer is silly enough to ring the doorbell before slashing at the main character. I laugh, feeling really stupid.
With a twist and a pull, I swing the door open, ready to face whatever's on the other side.
My heart stops.
Adam stands there, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. His dark blue eyes lock onto mine, intense and unreadable. The familiar scent of his cologne wafts toward me, nearly taking my breath away.