CHAPTER 21
I stand in Ms. Lucy’s kitchen, my hands trembling as I arrange cupcakes on the platter. The cheerful purple frosting and rainbow sprinkles mock the heaviness churning in my stomach. Every few seconds, my eyes dart to the window, scanning the driveway, the road beyond, searching for…what? A familiar truck? His face?
“Mommy, are they ready yet?” Sophie bounces on her toes beside me. Today she turns five. My beautiful girl deserves this celebration.
“Almost, baby.” I smooth her hair, forcing steadiness into my fingers. “Why don’t you go play with Tommy in the living room while we finish getting everything set up.”
As she scampers off, the old familiar weight settles back on my chest. Almost a month we’ve been here, four weeks of jumping at shadows having nightmares every other night. The tiny house felt safe, but the fear never fully left.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, vibrating against me like a warning. Unknown number flashes across the screen again. My heart stops, then lurches painfully back into rhythm. For a moment, I can’t breathe, can’t move, my fingers frozen above the glowing display.
I silence it, shoving it back in my pocket. The walls suddenly feel too close, the air too thin. We need to leave. Pack our few belongings and disappear before he finds us. Before—
“Bailey?” Ms. Lucy’s voice breaks through my spiral. “You look pale as a ghost.”
“I’m fine.” The lie comes automatically. “Just want everything to be perfect.”
She eyes me with that penetrating gaze that seems to see straight through me. “Those cupcakes aren’t going anywhere, dear. Let’s sit down for a minute.”
In the next room, Sophie’s laughter rings clear as bells. I peek around the corner to see her and Tommy trying to keep a blue balloon from hitting the ground.
Run. The voice in my head screams. Take her and run now.
But I can’t. Not today. Not when she finally has a friend. Not when she deserves one damn day of being just a normal little girl celebrating her birthday.
“I can’t take this from her,” I whisper, more to myself than to Ms. Lucy.
“Take what, dear?”
I swallow hard, forcing back tears. “Nothing. Just… today matters.”
“Bailey.” Ms. Lucy’s voice is soft, grounding me as it cuts through the chaos in my head. She places a gentle hand over mine. “You’re safe now.”
“But for how long?” My voice cracks. “He found me, Ms. Lucy. All those unknown calls and texts, I should have known. I should have…”
She stiffens, her warm smile evaporating. Her eyes, usually so gentle, harden with resolve. She straightens her shoulders and transforms before my eyes from sweet Ms. Lucy to a fortress.
“Jake,” she calls out, her voice calm yet commanding. “Would you be a dear and move that table to the dining room?
Jake nods, sensing the shift in her tone.
“Molly, honey, can you take those tablecloths and lay them on the tables? And I believe those punch bowls would look lovely in the dining room too.”
“Mary Beth, can you stay in here with the kiddos? I have to speak to Bailey in my office for a quick moment.”
“Sure can.” Mary Beth says from the couch as she continues to watch them both play with the balloon.
Everyone moves with quiet efficiency, responding to the authority in her voice without question. She turns to me, her hand on my elbow.
“Come with me,” she whispers, guiding me toward the hallway. “Sophie’s fine with Mary Beth for a few minutes.”
I follow her through the house to a small office at the back. The walls are lined with bookshelves, a sturdy oak desk centered in the room. She closes the door behind us with a soft click.
“Now,” she says, turning to face me. “Tell me everything.”
My words tumble out in a rush. “The calls were getting more frequent, I thought they were just telemarketers, so I answered this morning, and it was him. He said that he would be seeing us soon.” My hands won’t stop shaking. “He always said if I ever left, he’d—”
“Bailey.” She grips my shoulders. “That man doesn’t get to make threats. Not on my property.”
“But he knows my phone number. Somehow he found out. What’s to stop him from finding out exactly where we are? I need to leave, get Sophie somewhere—”
“You’ll do no such thing.” Her voice is steel wrapped in velvet. “Running again just puts you back on the road, vulnerable. Here, you have people. Protection.”
“You don’t understand what he’s capable of.”
“Oh, I understand men like him perfectly well.” Something dark flashes across her face. “But he doesn’t understand what I’m capable of.”
I study her, those piercing eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. She takes a deep breath.
“We should call the police, dear. We can file a report right now.” She reaches for the phone on her desk.
My stomach knots at the thought. I picture squad cars with flashing lights pulling into the driveway, uniformed officers walking through the party, Sophie’s wide eyes filled with questions I’m not ready to answer.
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “Not right now.”
“Bailey—”
“Please, Ms. Lucy.” I say, trying to hold myself together. “Filing a report means officers here, taking statements. Sophie would be terrified if police showed up at her birthday party. She’s finally relaxing.” I glance toward the door, imagining her beyond it, playing without a care in the world. “I can’t ruin today for her.”
She releases the phone, her expression softening. “I understand wanting to protect her from this, but we need to think about your safety too.”
“I know, and I will call them. I promise.” I push my hair back from my face, trying to organize my thoughts. “Just… let me get through today. Let her have this one perfect birthday. Tomorrow I’ll figure out what to do.”
She sighs, relenting. “Alright. But first thing tomorrow, we’re making that call together. And in the meantime, you’re not alone in this, you hear me?”
“I haven’t told anyone else about Matt. What if they judge me for not being stronger?”
“Oh, sugar.” She slowly kneels in front of me. “The only person judging you is yourself. These people care about you both. Gavin especially—”
“I haven’t told him anything.” The words burst out. “He’s so good, so kind. If he knew…”
“If he knew, he’d want to protect you even more.” She squeezes my hands. “But that’s your story to tell when you’re ready. For now, let’s focus on giving Sophie the birthday party she deserves.”
A soft knock at the door makes me jump. Mary Beth pokes her head in. “Gavin just pulled up.”
My heart does its usual flutter at his name, followed immediately by a wave of guilt. How can I think about anything else when Matt’s threat hangs over us?
“Perfect timing!” Ms. Lucy stands with a wince, pulling me up with her. “Bailey was just helping me with my secret recipe card collection, weren’t you?”
I manage a weak smile, grateful for her cover story. Outside, I hear a truck door slamming.
“Remember,” Ms. Lucy whispers, “you’re not alone anymore. That man might think he has power over you, but he’s wrong. You’re stronger than you know.”
I wrap Ms. Lucy in a tight hug. “Thank you for everything,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “Your kindness means more to me than you’ll ever know.” Her small frame feels so sturdy against mine, like an anchor in the storm my life has become. When I finally pull back, I notice her eyes are a bit misty behind her glasses and she picks up the hem of her floral apron and dabs at them.
I step back into the kitchen just as Sophie lets out a squeal of delight. Her and Tommy are jumping around now, their small faces flushed with excitement, still trying to keep balloon from touching the floor. Mary Beth cheers them on.
“Keep it up, kiddos!” She calls out, leaning over and tapping the balloon back to them.
The doorbell rings, sending my heart into my throat and peaking my anxiety again. Ms. Lucy answers, I hear the familiar creak of the screen door as it opens, followed by the sound of footsteps moving toward the kitchen.
Gavin appears in the archway; his arms are loaded with gifts wrapped in sparkly paper and a bag of birthday supplies that was requested last minute. My throat instantly clenches at the sight of him, a rush of conflicting emotions hitting me all at once.
He’s wearing dark jeans that fit him perfectly and a plain grey T-shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders. His dark hair is styled and tousled in that effortlessly attractive way he does it and I can’t help but notice how put-together he looks, even in casual clothes. As I watch him place the items on the island, my heart aches with guilt and uncertainty. I can’t imagine a world where someone like him would ever want to be with me once he knows the truth about Matt. The thought alone makes me feel sick with anxiety. Someone like Gavin, so successful and composed, would surely run in the opposite direction if he knew the truth about my past.
I try to act normal, to paste on the pretty smile. But it feels brittle and forced. It’s the same one I always used with Matt when we were out in public. I can feel Gavin’s concerned gaze from where he stands by the kitchen island. I try to ignore it as I busy myself with helping to set up the food on the dining table, straightening the plates and napkins, even though they were fine the way they were.
He approaches slowly, hesitation in every step, like he’s afraid one wrong move and I’ll bolt. His hand finds my elbow, gentle, barely there, and still, I flinch.
My body locks up, muscles turning to stone. The simple warmth of his touch, meant to steady me, instead sends a jolt of panic tearing through my entire body.
Memories crash in, sharp and suffocating, and for a moment, it’s all I can do to stay standing.
He pulls back instantly, his hand slipping away like he’s afraid he’s hurt me. His eyes search mine, not with judgment, but something deeper. Something that nearly undoes me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he whispers.
Before he can fully withdraw, I reach out, my fingers trembling as they press against the soft cotton of his shirt.
“No, please,” I whisper, answering the question I see in his eyes. “I’m just… it’s not you.”
His arms return, cautious and careful, wrapping around me like he’s afraid I’ll break. I let my forehead fall against his chest, breathing in the clean, steady scent of him. For just a moment, I allow myself this, this feeling of being held, of being able to breathe without fear.
“Hi.” He speaks to the top of my head,
A vision of Matt flashes in my eyes, harsh and unwelcome, and I quickly let go. I brush a lock of my hair back behind my ear.
“Hi,” I whisper and then turn and busy myself again around the table, methodically straightening items that don’t need straightening, again. Every time he moves to come closer, I see that his eyes are full of questions and growing concern. I find an excuse to step away, grabbing another plate or adjusting a centerpiece.
I can’t deal with his inquiries right now, I can’t risk breaking down if he shows me too much kindness, the walls I’ve built feel paper-thin.
“Don’t let it touch the ground!” Sophie shrieks as Tommy bats the balloon her way, her little body radiating excitement as she bounces on her toes. She clutches her sparkly ‘birthday girl’ crown with one hand to keep it from slipping as she bounces in place, eyes locked on the balloon drifting down through the air. When it finally floats within reach, she lets out a delighted giggle and smacks it back toward Tommy with all the enthusiasm she can muster.
“I got it, I got it!” Tommy lunges dramatically, his light brown curls flopping as he dives to save the balloon from touching the carpet, rolling across the floor in an exaggerated motion that makes both kids dissolve into giggles that bounce through the room, momentarily drowning out my troubled thoughts.
Molly starts arranging the veggie plate and dips that she brought on a platter saying something about the coffee shop’s newest gadget and I just nod along, not really listening, but grateful for the distraction from my churning thoughts. I can still feel Gavin hovering, his presence both comforting and terrifying
Back in the kitchen I pull out the number five candle and matches from the drawer.
“Bailey.” Gavins deep voice is right behind me, and I nearly jump out of my skin, my hands clutching the edge of the countertop. “Can we talk for a minute?” The gentle concern in his tone breaks my heart.
“I… I need to help Ms. Lucy with the drinks,” I stammer, ducking around his muscular frame and practically fleeing toward the back mud room where the drinks were placed. Ignoring the hurt that I know is on his face. My heart pounds against my ribs with each step.
Ms. Lucy intercepts me in the hallway.
“That man cares about you,” she whispers, nodding toward Gavin. “And he knows something’s wrong. You pushing him away isn’t going to solve anything.” Her words hit me like a physical blow.
“I just can’t…” My voice catches in my throat like broken glass, and I wrap my arms around myself again. “I can’t drag him into this mess.”
“Sweetie, look at me.” She waits until I meet her eyes, and she reaches out to squeeze my arms. “You’re not dragging anyone anywhere. That man walked into your life of his own free will, and he’s still here. Maybe it’s time to let someone else help carry your burdens.”
Before I can respond, Sophie comes running up to us.
“Mama! Tommy showed me how to bump the balloon with my head! Watch!”
I force a smile, pushing down the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. My hands tremble slightly as I clench them together. “That’s amazing, baby! Will you show me?”
She grabs my hand with her small, warm fingers, pulling me into the living room where Tommy is waiting with the bright blue balloon in his hands. The kids bounce around with endless energy, Sophie’s tiara now placed on the end table. They tilt their heads back, eyes fixed on the balloon floating above, and I find myself just watching, soaking in the joy of their laughter and play. I catch Gavin’s eye across the room from the kitchen where he’s now leaning against the counter. The concern etched onto his face makes my anxiety spike again and I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin. I know Ms. Lucy is right, that I can’t keep pushing away the people who want to help, who’ve proven themselves trustworthy. Especially not him.
Looking around the room at all these people. Here for my daughter’s birthday. Here for us.
The realization hits me like a physical blow. These aren’t just acquaintances—they’re people who genuinely care about Sophie. About me. People who’ve welcomed us into their lives without hesitation, without knowing the truth about where we came from or what we’re running from.
But this facade is killing me. The constant vigilance, the fake smiles, the pretending that we’re just a normal mother and daughter who moved for a fresh start. Pretending everything is okay is more exhausting than any escape I’d ever planned. The weight of it sits on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I glance at Gavin, who’s helping Jake set up the coolers. He catches my eye and offers a tentative smile, and I can’t even muster the energy to fake one back. The concern in his eyes deepens.
I’m so tired of running. Tired of looking over my shoulder. Tired of jumping at shadows and flinching at loud noises. Tired of lying to these good people who’ve opened their hearts and homes to us.
But most of all, I’m tired of being afraid.