Chapter 46
Locke
She loves me.
An admission I wasn’t expecting. Words I almost couldn’t bear to accept.
But now that she’s said them, they’re all I want to hear from her sweet, sassy lips over and over for all the days of my life.
Joey loves me.
And I love her. So damn much.
I’d do anything for her. Fight any battle. Stave off every demon. I’ll be anything she wants me to be, anything she needs. I just want to be with her.
She’s on the other side of the field, sitting with a few of the younger kids. One of the scrawnier boys, Ashton, holds his belly, glancing over at me every few seconds, panicked.
He ate too fast. I watched him scarf down his sandwich, then snag a few pieces of crust from nearby kids who were too distracted to notice.
If I had to guess, he’s worried he’ll be sick and get in trouble because of it.
I was that kid once.
Hell, I was that kid for years. Even after I was finally placed with Gary and Brenda. Survival skills and coping mechanisms don’t just turn off once a child is in a safe, stable environment. It takes years of nurturing, therapy, and reprogramming to flip the switch.
I scan the group of kids who are horseplaying and still tossing the ball on the field, then make my way to the sidelines, my focus once again homed in on Joey.
She tips to one side and says something to Ashton. He nods and looks around wearing a sheepish frown, his eyes full of trepidation, but then he lowers his body onto his left side and curls up around Joey’s hip and thigh.
She keeps chatting with the two little girls in front of her, but she rests a hand on Ashton’s back and moves it in slow, soothing circles at the same time.
Every few seconds, she peeks down at him with a smile—reassuring him without making a scene or calling extra attention to his position.
My breath hitches in my chest as I take her in: wearing my number on her jersey, fully committed to the conversation around her, caring wholeheartedly for Ashton.
She’s surrounded by kids who haven’t bathed or brushed their teeth in who knows how long.
Yet she acts like each one of them is sacred and beloved.
Because they are.
And so is she.
Someday, she’ll sit with our kids, comforting our son or laughing alongside our daughters.
She loves me.
There’s no doubt in my mind that I want to spend the rest of my life loving her.