Chapter 34 Celine
Celine
This house had settled around us like an embrace. The late afternoon sunlight slanted across the wooden table scattered with art supplies, Legos, and algebra homework.
Maggie was narrating her Halloween costume engineering while Ellie offered suggestions and pretended to do math homework.
Julian sat on the floor by my feet, arranging crayons in perfect rows, calm and comfortable.
The cottage was messy, loud, and thriving these days.
We ate dinners at this table and watched endless movies on the couch.
Julian had lost a tooth last week and was so relieved when the Tooth Fairy had “found” him at his new house.
After years of only surviving instead of living, this felt like a miracle, wonderous and special.
Beneath the warmth and calm, there was a knot in my stomach I couldn’t shake. Part fear and part hope. The parole hearing loomed. A shadow that continuously tried to drag me back toward a life I refused to return to.
But even with the dread and the preparation, I couldn’t ignore the dizzying awareness that I might be in love.
The most impossible thing at the most impossible time. But resisting Josh, with his quiet steadiness, his care for my children, and his unguarded honesty, was hopeless.
Especially when he’d opened up about his past. About the loss and grief and betrayal.
But was it possible to fit this joy and hope alongside all the terror I’d carried around for so long? How could I build a future while always looking over my shoulder?
I wanted Josh. I wanted this life and a future that wouldn’t cost me the safety and independence I’d worked so hard to build.
I was lost in those ruminations when my phone pinged on the table in front of me.
Chloe: you still haven’t submitted your statement. Do you need my help writing it?
Stomach sinking, I squeezed my eyes shut. I did not want to go down that road and reopen all the wounds. But the parole hearing was next week, so I didn’t have a choice. I’d do it not just for myself, but for my kids, who had never been as content as they were now.
Celine: I’m working on it.
Chloe: I know it’s hard, but you can do hard things.
That was my older sister, a veritable inspirational poster.
With a deep breath, I gave myself a pep talk. Then I picked up my laptop and headed to the couch. I’d just started typing out notes, hands shaking, when the kids all clambered to their feet.
“Josh,” Maggie yelled as she darted for the door.
“Wow. Hi, guys.”
He gave me a shy grin, and my stomach flipped. Dammit. The last thing I needed right now was a big, warm, sexy distraction.
With a box held out, he stepped inside, Wayne with him, demanding pets and cuddles. “Jenn sent me over with these. New donut flavors they’re considering.”
Ellie took the treats, and the three of them rushed into the kitchen.
“Come in.” I pushed my messy hair behind my ears and cringed inwardly. I’d worn makeup to school this morning, but I had a feeling most of it had crusted under my eyes by now.
“You okay?” he asked, his head tilted.
I nodded.
He opened his arms and I stepped into them, accepting a quick hug. I wanted to cling to him, to beg him to help me put Donny and all this nastiness behind me.
“So,” he said as he released me. “Hypothetically, if you were a bit tense and needed a break…”
Stepping back, I looked up at him.
He held up his hands. “Hypothetically, of course.”
That comment only made me suspicious of his motives here. So I crossed my arms and cocked a brow, readying to argue.
“Maybe I could take the kids outside to play street hockey for a while. Give you some quiet.”
My body deflated. Oh. God, this man was so sweet. “That would be okay,” I said. “But Maggie and Julian don’t have sticks.”
“Um.” Ducking, he shuffled his feet. “I bought them some.”
“Josh.”
“So we can all play. You know, a big family game.”
The word “family” snagged on something sharp inside me. Because it was easy to imagine how good things could be. What Josh and I could build over time. Love, trust, security.
I blinked back tears, quickly collecting myself. I was too busy to break down, and I didn’t need him asking more question or looking at me with pity. Like a victim.
“Okay.” I nodded. “That would be helpful. I just need an hour to…” I waved a hand at my laptop. “To finish something.”
In a matter of minutes, he’d rounded up the kids, found Julian’s blue fleece hoodie, and headed out for street hockey.
“You sure you don’t need me?” Ellie asked through the open door. Her siblings were already halfway down the road.
“I’m good,” I said, my heart panging with gratefulness as I shuffled onto the porch. “You go have fun.”
She bounded down the porch steps, suddenly seeming so much more childlike than she had in years. There had been a time when Ellie was bubbly and outgoing. Silly and creative. But when things got bad with Donny, the light inside her had gone out.
It was flickering back to life now. Between new friends, robotics club, and playing hockey with Josh, she was finding herself again. I wiped away a tear. I couldn’t backslide. We’d come so far.
My phone buzzed in my hand, so as I stepped back inside, I scrolled through the latest texts in the group chat. The girls were making Halloween plans, and Callie was checking in for my upcoming IEP meeting. Chloe had texted again too, with reminders and legal suggestions.
I sat on the couch, breathed in, breathed out, and just typed.
Yes, I was nauseous.
Yes, my hands shook.
But I had to get this out.
I started with the incident. The impact it had on me. On the kids. I dug around in my files to find the reports from the child psychologists and the court advocate.
Robotically, I laid it out from beginning to end. I wasn’t a victim. I was someone with essential factual knowledge. I had a duty to share it.
The emails were next. Those from Phyllis and those from an anonymous email account. The hang-up phone calls. The strange packages and notes in the mail.
A retelling of the time he sent one of his drinking buddies to “check on us” when we were living in Portland and the man had kicked in the door of our apartment.
Donny wasn’t satisfied unless he was controlling and intimidating me. It had always been that way. It had just started off more subtly, and I’d been too dumb to see it at the time.
When he was out on bail, he’d driven by Chloe’s house, blaring the car horn in the middle of the night. Or triggering our alarm system remotely when we were asleep just to be cruel.
I typed official, legal phrases like “Escalation, behavioral patterns, and ongoing risk.” I attached all the emails and notes. The police reports from the prior incidents.
The idea of him being released early terrified me. Donny didn’t care about restraining orders, and clearly, he knew where we were.
A thought I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge plagued me. Should we leave? Move again?
The idea made me sick. Even from behind bars, even years later, Donny was still taking things away from me. Still punishing me.
I wiped at my tears with my sleeve and kept typing, focusing on remaining objective and organized. Eventually, I wandered over to the kitchen and plucked out what looked like a cranberry-flavored donut.
Then I went to the junk drawer and pulled out an envelope. I’d tucked notes, letters, and cards inside it as they showed up over the past couple of years.
On top was the latest card. I stared at the handwriting. Found You screamed at me from the yellow cardstock.
“Fuck you,” I said to the pile of papers.
“You’re not getting out early, Donny.” My hands no longer shook with fear, but with pure rage.
“Fuck you,” I shouted. “You terrorized us. You stole so many years from me. And I’ll be absolutely damned if I let you steal from my children.
If you take away their home and their happiness. ”
With renewed motivation, I sat back down and finished typing.
An hour or so later, the kids’ laughter floated on the air, loud enough to hear inside the quiet house.
Smiling, I looked out the front window. Josh was carrying Julian on his shoulders.
It was a sight I’d never seen before. Julian did not like being touched and definitely did not want to be carried.
He tolerated it for the pumpkin boat race, but he’d been clear that it was only because it was necessary.
They spilled through the door.
Julian darted for me, tugging on my shirt. “I scored a goal.”
“Awesome.”
“Mom.” Maggie was talking a mile a minute, her face flushed and her cheeks rosy. “Ellie taught me how to do this move.”
Ellie wandered to the sink and filled a water glass.
“Good game,” she said to Josh, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“Can Josh stay so I can show him my Halloween costume?” Maggie asked.
“Me too!” Julian jumped up and down. “I wanna see if he’s scared.”
“Okay. If he wants to.” I padded toward where he stood near my open lap top and clapped it shut. “Thanks,” I said.
He inspected me, a worried look on his face. “If you need to talk—”
I shook my head. “All good.” Not today. For now, I wanted to talk about Halloween and algebra and street hockey.
He was so kind and so good. But his visceral reaction to what had happened, while not wrong, made me feel ashamed.
Made me feel stupid. Like a woman who wasn’t capable of protecting her kids.
And right now. I couldn’t afford that.