Chapter 45 Heather
Heather
After pressing another warm kiss to my neck, just below my ear, Grant scoops me into his arms and carries me into the bathroom.
He’s so careful and gentle with me as he cleans me up that it’s hard to wrap my head around how he can also be so fiercely protective and possessive.
Or how these hands can also feel so amazingly firm when he spanks me and makes me come.
Finally clean and refreshed and looking as presentable as possible, I put on the navy dress he helped me pick out. The one that is conservative and classy and says I’m the kind of mother who has her life together and her shit figured out.
If only I could manage to feel that way on the inside for more than a few days at a time between crises. But I’m not above faking it until I make it—especially today.
Grant appears behind me as I’m adjusting my necklace in the mirror, and I can tell by his expression in the reflection that he’s about to say something serious.
“You look beautiful.” He nuzzles his face into my hair for a moment before pulling back. “And I have something for you.”
I turn to face him. “Thank you, but you don’t have to give me anything today. Just having you by my side through all of this has been more than I deserve.”
“You deserve all the good things, and today is just the beginning of that journey. But this is something small. Nothing crazy, I promise.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something I can’t see, then holds it out to me in his palm.
It’s a tiny elephant figurine, no bigger than my thumb. The paint is worn in places, and one of the ears looks like it’s been re-glued at some point. It’s clearly been well-loved and well-used.
“Sorry it’s a little beat up. It normally lives in my gear bag.” He watches me examine it. “I’ve kept it with me for every game since that away trip a few weeks ago. Every practice. Every time I step on the ice.”
My throat tightens. “Grant, I can’t take this. This is your good luck charm.”
“I want you to have it today.” He closes my fingers around the little elephant. “Not for luck. Just the reminder that I’ll always be right here with you. I won’t ever run away from the hard times, and I’ll always help celebrate the good times.”
I stare down at the small figure in my hand, overwhelmed by the gesture. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Hurricane.
” He cups my face in his hands. “Just keep it with you. And when things get hard in there, when Steven tries to get under your skin or make you doubt yourself, I want you to remember that you’re never alone.
You’ve got me. You’ve got April. You’ve got this. ”
I nod, blinking back tears. If I start crying now, I’ll ruin my makeup and we’ll be late. “Thank you. I’ll keep it safe.”
“I know you will.” He kisses me again, soft and sweet. “Ready to have some breakfast and get this day started?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We head downstairs, and I tuck the elephant carefully into my purse so it’s secure. My stomach churns with a powerful wave of nausea that’s been nearly knocking me off my feet lately, and I’m not sure whether I’m just hungry or my nerves are already shot for the day.
Probably both.
Regardless, I’m blaming Steven, since it’s been nothing but constant anxiety and fear since he forced his way back into my life. Now my stomach is usually in knots from the moment I wake up until the moment I finally fall asleep.
I press a hand to my abdomen, willing it to settle. I can’t afford to be sick today. I need to be strong, focused, and present.
Once we make it to the kitchen, Grant starts whipping up some French toast in record time. The smell of it hits me, and my stomach lurches, but I breathe through it.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I call toward the living room where I can hear April watching cartoons.
“Morning, Mom!” She appears in the doorway, still in her pajamas. “You look pretty. Oh, and Grant’s making breakfast!”
“Thank you, and yes, he is.” I manage a smile. “But you need to finish getting dressed first, remember? We have to leave as soon as we finish eating.”
“Okay!” She bounces back toward the stairs.
“Five minutes until the French toast is ready!” I call after her.
Grant glances at me as he finishes cooking the first batch. “Are you sure you’re doing okay?”
“I’m fine. Just trying to psych myself up for what I know is going to be a long day.
” I head to the entryway where April’s backpack is slumped against the wall, and dig through it quickly—homework folder, check.
Library book that was due yesterday, check.
Permission slip for the field trip next week, signed and ready to go.
By the time April comes back down, dressed and with her hair pulled into a ponytail that’s only slightly crooked, Grant has breakfast on the table.
We eat quickly, or at least they do. I push my food around my plate, managing a few bites while April chatters about something that happened at recess yesterday. Grant listens attentively, asking questions, and I’m grateful for the distraction.
“Okay, sweetheart,” I say finally, checking the time. “We need to get going. Do you have your backpack?”
“Yep!” April grabs it from where I left it by the door.
“Homework?”
“In the folder.”
“Library book?”
“Mom, we both know you literally just checked all of this.” But she’s smiling when she says it.
“I know, I know.” I smooth down her ponytail, fixing the crooked part. “But I also want you to be in the habit of checking.”
Grant appears with his keys, already wearing his jacket. “Ready?”
I nod, even though my stomach is churning again as we head out to the truck.
The drive to April’s school is quiet at first. Grant keeps one hand on the wheel and the other holding mine. It might just be a simple touch, but it helps ground me and reminds me that I’m not doing this alone.
From the backseat, April finally breaks the silence. “Mom?”
I turn around to look at her. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Are you going to see Dad today?”
My chest tightens. “Yeah, I am.”
“Is he going to try to take me away?”
The question is so direct and unexpected that I physically recoil before I can even begin to think of a reply. Thankfully—and as always—Grant is right by my side to help.
“No.” His voice is firm and definitive in a way that makes it sound like the case is already closed. “That’s not going to happen.”
April looks at him, then back at me. “Do you promise?”
I reach back and take her hand. “I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you stay with me. That’s what today is about. Making sure we can keep being a family, just the two of us.”
“The three of us,” she corrects me, glancing at Grant.
My heart squeezes. “The three of us.”
April squeezes my hand. “You’re going to win, Mom. I know you are.”
“What makes you so sure?” I force a tight smile even though I’m struggling to keep it together through this conversation.
“Because you’re the best mom in the world. And because Grant is helping you. And because Dad is…” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “Dad isn’t a good person. I know I’m not supposed to say that, but it’s true. He hurt you, and he was mean to you, and he doesn’t deserve to be around us.”
I’m shocked. I’ve tried so hard to shield her from the worst of what Steven did, to never speak badly about him in front of her, and to let her form her own opinions. But she’s obviously seen more than I’ve realized, and she understands more than I’ve given her credit for.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I unbuckle my seat belt and twist around so I can hug her properly. “You’re so smart. And so brave. I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too, Mom.” She hugs me tight. “You’re going to do great today. I know it.”
When we finally pull apart, Grant is watching us in the rearview mirror with a hint of a smile on his face.
“You should get to class,” I tell April, smoothing her hair back. “We don’t want you to be late.”
“Okay.” She grabs her backpack and opens the door, but before she climbs out, she leans forward and gives Grant a quick hug too. “Take care of my mom today, okay?”
“I will,” he promises. “Always.”
The courthouse looks more like a prison, and I have to remind myself that we’re here for a good reason and that we’re going to get the outcome we want. The one we need.
Probably.
Almost certainly.
“Hey.” Grant’s hand finds mine. “Don’t forget to breathe.”
“I’m breathing.”
“Slower. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
I follow his instructions and force my lungs to cooperate. After a few breaths, the crushing doubts and fears recede enough to keep moving forward.
This is the way the past few weeks have been—one step forward, panic, two steps back. Then Grant will reassure me and the process will start all over again.
“I’ll just be so glad when this is all over,” I say after another big inhale and exhale. “When I don’t have to jump every time my phone rings and you can get through an entire practice without—oh, shit. You’re supposed to be at practice right now!”
“This is about a hundred times more important.”
“So you got out of practice to be here with me?” It’s not that I’m surprised, it’s just that I know how much his practice time and his routines mean to him. The fact that he has to keep giving up his time to support me hits me right in the heart.
“Heather.” He turns to face me fully, his expression serious. “You are more important than practice. More important than hockey. Than any of it. I’m exactly where I need to be right now.”
My throat tightens, and I’m so grateful even though I do feel more than a little guilty for dragging him away from the sport I know he still loves.
“Thank you,” is all I can say without becoming a blubbering mess here in the parking lot.
God, this whole ordeal has my emotions completely out of whack. That’s another thing I’ll be happy to see return to normal. It’ll be nice not to feel like I’m going to cry or scream or vomit—or all of the above—every time I turn around.