Chapter 37
BECCA
Iwake up before I open my eyes, enjoying a peaceful morning without the blaring of an alarm. There’s weight behind me. Warmth. A steady arm draped across my waist like it’s been there all night. It has.
I don’t move right away. Just breathe, enjoying this feeling I wasn’t sure I would ever have again.
The house is quiet, early morning quiet. The kind that feels earned after a long night, which we had. Soft gray light filters through the curtains, washing the room in that muted early-morning glow that makes everything feel slower.
Sam’s hand shifts slightly against my stomach, his thumb brushing once, absentmindedly, like he’s not fully awake but knows exactly where I am. Knows I’m still here.
I press back into him without thinking. His chest rises behind me, a slow inhale, and then—
“Morning,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
A small smile pulls at my mouth. “Morning.”
Neither of us moves to get up. For a long time, mornings were rushed. Work. Money. What’s next, what’s due, what we need to fix. That’s not gone. It’ll come back, it always does.
But right now … I’m not thinking about any of it. I’m just here, present. And for once, that feels like enough.
His arm tightens slightly, pulling me closer, and I let him. My fingers slide over his forearm, tracing the familiar lines like I’m reminding myself this is real. Last night wasn’t just … adrenaline, or fear.
“So,” he says quietly behind me, “I’m here, not actually dreaming.”
I huff a soft laugh. “That sounds like you’re surprised.”
“I’m cautious,” he says. “Big difference.” I turn slowly in his arms, facing him.
He’s watching me already. No hesitation or guarded looks. It hits me how different that feels from how we have been these last months.
The adrenaline from the last two days lingers faintly under my skin, but here in our bed, wrapped in Sam’s warmth, it finally starts to loosen its grip.
Yesterday flashes through my mind. From the police station to showing them the footage.
The way the officer paused the screen and looked at us as if it was already decided.
The officer was impressed by our clear documentation and timeline of events.
I wasn’t reacting to something after it broke, after circumstances left my control, like they so often did from my childhood. I prevented it from occurring, using those hard lessons.
My mom used to tell me that we couldn't plan for what we couldn't afford to think about. She wasn't wrong, especially for her life. But I learned something different; that preparing is the only thing that makes surviving feel like living.
The police officer said they had enough to issue an arrest warrant and joked that he wished every case were so well documented. They thanked us for our time and said they would keep us posted, meaning Rick is still at large.
We were cautioned to file a restraining order. We did for ourselves and encouraged Holly as well, just in case.
Sam’s hand comes up, brushing a piece of hair away from my face. His fingers linger, just for a second longer than necessary.
“You good?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah.” And I mean it.
Not in a forced way. Not in a “I’ll deal with it later” way, which is my normal mode.
His gaze drops briefly, then comes back to mine. I can feel the shift in him, the pull. The same pull I feel. We’re closer now and not just physically.
I let my hand drift to his chest, resting there and feeling his heartbeat under my palm.
“This feels different.”
“It does,” he agrees.
Neither of us rushes to define the difference. His hand slides along my side, slow and deliberate, like he’s checking in with me without asking. I lean into his hand, and that is his answer.
His mouth brushes my shoulder, not quite a kiss, but still all-consuming. It sends a slow heat through me, familiar and new all at once.
“Sam …” I say softly.
He stills for half a second. Then pulls back enough to look at me again.
“I know, baby, I got you,” he says. And I know he means it in every way.
“You always say that,” I murmur with a smile.
“Because I mean it,” he replies.
Then I shift closer, closing the space between us fully. His hand tightens slightly at my waist. The look in his eyes turns darker, hungrier, and my body reacts instantly.
I press a kiss to his chest and arch my back, bringing my hips to his. His breath catches, just barely, as the tension in our bodies starts to build. For a second, the whole world narrows to us, this moment.
“I got you,” he repeats, softer this time as he rolls us over so he’s on top. We have done this dance countless times. Before, we would’ve fallen into our desire for each other fast, let it all consume us and blur everything else.
Now, we don’t rush a moment. He looks into my eyes as he lifts my sleep shirt, trailing kisses down my stomach.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. We both freeze. I let out a small, annoyed exhale and reach for it without breaking eye contact.
“Please don’t be bad,” I mutter.
Sam huffs a quiet laugh. “You always assume it is.”
“Because lately, it has been.” I glance at the screen and give an annoyed sigh.
“Bad?” Sam asks, already rolling over on his side, looking at me.
“Vanessa,” I say, reading the message. “She’s asking if we’re still going to the fair. Well, asking might not be the right word.” I show him my screen.
Nessa
Just because you have your hot hubby back in your bed and were at the police station yesterday DOES NOT mean you get to skip out on the fair.
Sam’s hand shifts on my waist, leaning to read the texts, laughing at the absurdity.
“The fair,” he repeats.
“Mmhm.” I set the phone back down, but don’t move away from him. “Normal people things.”
“Normal couple things,” he says.
Somewhere outside, I can hear a lawn mower starting up, the world moving on like the last few days never happened.
I smile. The kind we almost lost. “It is.”
We lie there for another second, not rushing this moment. I take a breath, then push myself up slightly, brushing my lips against his before I pull away.
“Come on,” I say softly. “Let’s go be normal.”
His hand catches mine before I can get too far away and pulls me back in.
“Hey,” he says. There’s something there, a vulnerability Sam rarely shares.
“We’re okay?” he asks. “I know we aren’t perfect, and I never will be. But—”
“Yeah,” I say. “We’re okay. Better than okay, actually. I don’t expect you to be perfect, Lord knows I’m not. I expect you to never hide or lie to me again.” And I believe every word I tell him.
“I won’t, I promise. I learned a lot about my failings as a husband through all this.” I go to stop him, but he interrupts.
“No, let me finish. I learned I failed you in ways before my financial infidelity hit.”
He shifts up on his elbow, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I let my insecurities take priority. I always blamed myself for Holly’s accident, and I let that overshadow my relationship with her, and in doing so, you too.
I prioritized her wants and feelings over yours.
I wanted to achieve more, be better, and I know you’re ambitious too.
But you wanted them for more pure reasons, security.
Mine was all ego-based, wanting to prove to people who weren’t even asking for it that I could accomplish more than my dad or grandfather did on my own.
That ego led me to trust a guy like Rick and to get us into this situation.
I promise you, I will keep myself in check and not get caught up in what doesn’t matter again.
Because of you, what we build together, that is what matters. ”
I tear up, hearing how far we’ve come. I give him a light kiss, not wanting to wallow in the heaviness, which seems to be all we’ve lived in for months.
“Honey, if you ever need someone to stroke your … ego, just pull me back into your truck, I would be happy to make you see what a big man I know you are.”
Sam guffaws at my absurdity and drags me back down into his lap. “Thank you, baby, for giving me another chance. I will be glad to take you up on that … ego trip any day.”