Chapter 31
Sadie
The afternoon sun slants through the windshield, bathing the familiar streets of Virginia Dale in golden light as we drive back from the airport. The town looks different somehow, or maybe I'm the one who's different.
"Almost home," Axel says, his hand resting lightly on my thigh. The simple touch no longer makes me flinch or tense. Instead, it feels grounding, normal, like it belongs there.
I turn to glance at Poppy in her car seat, happily babbling to her stuffed rabbit.
When I look back at the road ahead, I realize something startling.
I haven't checked the mirrors for a tail in over twenty minutes.
Haven't scanned the sidewalks for men who might be watching us.
Haven't mentally mapped the fastest escape routes from Main Street.
"You okay?" Axel asks, noticing my expression.
"Yeah," I say, surprised to find it's actually true. "I just noticed I'm not… looking."
He doesn't need me to explain. His thumb traces a small circle on my leg. "That's good."
The town rolls by outside my window, the hardware store where Mr. Patterson is sweeping the sidewalk, the florist with its bright display of summer arrangements, the diner where Rowan and I had breakfast the day after I arrived in Virginia Dale.
All these places that felt like temporary shelter, like hiding spots I might need to abandon at a moment's notice, suddenly look permanent. Possible.
"Everything seems softer," I murmur, half to myself.
"What does?" Axel's voice is gentle, curious.
"The edges." I gesture vaguely at the world outside. "Everything used to look… sharp. Dangerous. Like I needed to be ready to run at any second."
Axel's hand squeezes mine. "And now?"
"Now it just looks like a town." I laugh softly, the sound surprising me. "A nice town where people live normal lives."
We turn onto the street that leads to Pike's Perk, and I feel my heart rate pick up, not from fear this time, but anticipation.
It's been less than a week since we left for Oregon, but it feels like a lifetime ago.
The woman who locked that door behind her, who triple-checked every window, who slept with a chair against the door, she's still me, but also someone I'm slowly leaving behind.
"Rowan said she'd meet us here," Axel says as he pulls into a parking space in front of the café. "She's been keeping the place running while we were gone."
I like the sound of that… we.
I unbuckle Poppy while Axel grabs our bags from the trunk. When I lift her into my arms, she immediately points at the café window, recognizing home.
"That's right, sweet girl," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her curls. "We're home."
The word doesn't catch in my throat the way it used to, heavy with the knowledge that home is temporary, precarious, easily lost. Now it feels solid, real.
Axel joins us on the sidewalk, one hand automatically finding the small of my back as we approach the café door. The gesture is protective but not possessive, a distinction I'm finally learning to recognize.
I take a deep breath before pushing open the door, the familiar bell chiming overhead. The scent hits me first, coffee and pastry and the faint lemon of cleaning solution. Then the sounds, quiet conversation, the hiss of the espresso machine, cutlery against plates.
Rowan looks up from behind the counter, her face breaking into a smile when she sees us. She hurries over, arms already reaching for Poppy.
"There's my favorite niece!" she coos, taking the baby from me. "And her mom, who better have brought me a full report."
I laugh, the sound coming easily now. "Every detail, I promise."
Rowan's eyes study my face, noting the changes that even I can feel, the relaxed set of my shoulders, the way I'm standing tall instead of making myself small and unnoticeable.
"You look different," she says, her voice softening. "Good different."
"I feel different." I glance around the café, taking in the afternoon regulars, the staff moving efficiently behind the counter, the space I've poured myself into for months.
"Everything feels different."
Axel sets our bags down, his arm slipping naturally around my waist. "I should head home, shower, change. Give you two some time to catch up."
I turn to him, suddenly reluctant to let him go even for a few hours. "You'll come back for dinner?"
His smile tips into something darker, eyes holding mine like a secret. "Try to stop me." He dips in, his mouth catching mine for a heartbeat. It’s not a polite kiss, his lips are firm, lingering, a silent reminder of everything he could take if I asked.
When he pulls away, my pulse is thundering, my skin tingling with the memory of his mouth. He knows it too, and I see the satisfaction flicker in his gaze.
I watch him walk away, broad shoulders filling the doorway like he owns every room he enters. The usual knot of dread doesn’t surface. There's no voice in my head whispering that he won't come back, that this is temporary, that I shouldn't trust the happiness unfurling in my chest.
"So," Rowan says, bouncing Poppy on her hip. "It worked? The custody thing is settled?"
I nod, the reality still sinking in. "More than settled. Elliot signed away all parental rights. He's gone for good."
Her eyes widen. "Just like that?"
"It's a long story," I say, not ready to get into the details of the confrontation, the evidence, the recording that proved just how dangerous Elliot really was. "But yes. It's over."
"And what about you two?" She nods toward the door where Axel just exited.
A smile tugs at my lips, impossible to suppress. "That's… not over. Not by a long shot."
Rowan's answering grin is knowing, approving. "Good. He's one of the good ones."
"The best," I agree, the simple truth of it settling in my bones.
I move behind the counter, running my hand over the familiar equipment. The espresso machine I've cleaned a thousand times. The register I've balanced every night. The display case I've arranged and rearranged.
For months, Pike's Perk has been my fortress, the place I retreated to, the structure I controlled when everything else felt chaotic. But now, looking around at the warm lighting, the comfortable chairs, the staff who greet me with genuine smiles, I realize it's become something else entirely.
Not a hiding place. Not a fortress. Just mine. My café. My life.
I grab an apron from the hook, tying it around my waist with practiced movements. The familiar weight of it settles around me, comforting rather than confining.
"You don't have to jump back in today," Rowan says, watching me with a raised eyebrow. "Take some time."
I shake my head, smiling as I pull my hair back into a ponytail. "I want to. This is where I belong."
The words hang in the air, simple but profound. This is where I belong. Not because I'm hiding, not because I have nowhere else to go, but because I've chosen it. Because I've built something here that matters, a business, relationships, a life that's truly mine.
I step up to the counter as the bell chimes, signaling a new customer. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I don't tense at the sound. Don't automatically check to see if it's a threat, if it's someone watching me, if it's Elliot somehow finding me again.
Instead, I smile at Mrs. Henderson as she approaches, her usual order already half-formed in my mind.
"Welcome to Pike's Perk," I say, the words no longer a script but a promise, to myself, to Poppy, to this town that's become home when I wasn't looking.
Hours later, after the last customer has left and the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the café floor, I wipe down the counter one final time.
The familiar routine feels different now, less frantic, less like I'm erasing evidence of my existence and more like I'm simply closing up my business.
"You want me to get the chairs?" Rowan asks, already starting to flip them onto the tables.
"Thanks," I say, watching as she moves through the space with the same efficiency I do. We've always been alike in that way, practical, methodical. Our mother used to joke that we were born with clipboards in our hands.
The thought of our mother doesn't bring the usual pang of grief, sharp and sudden. Instead, there's a gentler ache, a wistfulness that feels almost like healing.
"Penny for your thoughts," Rowan says, catching me staring into space with a rag in my hand.
I smile, resuming my wiping. "Just thinking about Mom. How she'd say we were twins born five years apart."
Rowan's movements pause, her expression softening. "She'd be proud of you, you know. Of how you've handled all this."
"Running away? Hiding?" The words don't have the bitter edge they used to.
"Surviving," Rowan corrects firmly. "Protecting your daughter. Building a life against impossible odds." She flips the last chair, then leans against the table. "Not many people could do what you've done, Sadie."
I duck my head, uncomfortable with the praise but warming to it all the same. "I had help."
"Yes, you did." Her smile turns teasing. "Tall, dark—and brewery-owning help."
I duck my head, smiling. "It's not just that. He…" I struggle to find words that don't sound trite. "He sees me. The real me. Not just the scared parts."
Rowan's eyes soften. "I know. I've seen how he looks at you." She crosses to the counter, taking the rag from my hands. "That's why I'm not worried about leaving."
My head snaps up. "Leaving? What are you talking about?"
She sighs, leaning her hip against the counter. "I got the job in Denver. The one I told you about months ago, before…"
"Before everything went to hell," I finish for her.
"Yeah." She looks guilty, which isn't an expression I'm used to seeing on my confident older sister's face.
"The timing's terrible, I know. But they need an answer by Friday, and it's a really good opportunity."
"You should take it," I interrupt, surprised by how much I mean it.
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Really? I thought you'd be upset."