Chapter 26
Sophie
A quilted picnic blanket flutters in the breeze, anchored by a variety of what I imagine would be a child’s perfect meal.
A lavish breakfast spread with candies and toys that I picked up today with Dante while Xavier was working out—a ballerina doll and a picture book featuring giraffes, similar to the old stuffed animal he cherishes in his office.
All morning, to ease my nervousness, I cut roses from the bushes, arranging them among the food in an effort to make everything perfect.
“She’s going to love it,” Dante insists.
“She has to,” I respond, soiling the dress as my knees press into the earth. “She has to like me.”
“All kids are weird at first with strangers.”
Obsessing over the colorful spread, my heart pounding in my chest, I'm struck by how unfamiliar this feeling is. For as long as I can remember, I never wanted a child. I vehemently rebelled against the idea.
Part of that stemmed from knowing that, to my parents, that was my sole purpose as their child and as a woman.
I hated that .
In that hatred, I saw myself less and less within that life.
And then Xavier happened.
My loss in Madrid happened.
Since returning, the icy casing in my chest has thawed, leaving me painfully exposed. Vulnerable. Pleading for the love I’ve been denied all these years.
I have no idea when Dante leaves me.
I'm only aware of his absence when I fix the upturned corner of the blanket and notice a little girl stepping out onto the terrace from within the house, clutching her father’s leg.
She’s dolled up in a pink frilly dress, something my mother would have insisted I wear as a child.
Her red hair is slicked down and pinned to her head, held in place by a bow.
I'm still in the dirt, staring at them as Xavier helps her off the last step. Crossing the lawn, his gaze shifts from me rising awkwardly to my feet, to the white dress I would have never chosen on any other day, to the lavish breakfast I’ve laid out for us.
When she excitedly squeals at the sight, I can't help but smile wider and wider, unable to control it.
“Look, Daddy!”
“ Wow ,” he exclaims, gasping in a way that feels different from his usual demeanor, accompanied by a smile so utterly transparent that I'm left speechless. “Look at what Sophie did for you, Izzy.”
“Candies,” Isabella laughs, her attention on the delicious treats.
It’s not until Xavier speaks my name again, crouching to her height and inviting her to say hello, that her green eyes finally meet mine.
They are so like his. I alternate between their similarities, feeling more comforted than I expected to be at this moment.
“I'm Sophie. It’s nice to meet you, Isabella.”
She gasps, pointing to the presents. “Daddy, look! ”
“Those are for you,” I explain, glancing at my husband. “From us.”
As she jumps onto the downy quilt to grab the wrapped boxes, an arm encircles my waist, drawing me in. Xavier plants a kiss on my temple. “This must have taken you all morning.”
I'm too nervous to confirm that, watching the sweet girl tear into the polka-dot wrapping.
She freaks out over both gifts as we sit beside her on the blanket. Xavier encourages her to eat while it’s hot, both of us laughing at how eagerly she devours everything, stealing bacon from his plate and fruit from mine.
“Ask permission before taking someone’s food, Iz,” Xavier insists, laughing as she does just that, one hand already digging out another grape. “And say thank you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Gathering all of my courage, I point to the book beside her. “You like giraffes? I noticed you have one inside the house.”
“That’s George.”
“George?”
She nods, chewing. "I gave it to Daddy when he was sad.”
Xavier switches the subject quickly enough for it to mean something, offering to read to her. My eyes linger on him as he lies on his side, propped up on an elbow, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt rolled up to his forearms.
When he was sad …
Xavier reads in voices. I didn’t expect that.
High octaves and low—just to entertain her.
Staring between them, I lose focus on the story and drift into our memories, recalling his declaration on that mountain when he was tasked with taking out my sister. He told me what he wanted out of life: normalcy, with minivans, jobs, and babies.
He might not have all of those things, but he has one .
And despite the fact that she’s not mine, my vision is rapidly blurring, grateful to be able to see him this way. Not so long ago, that wasn’t even a possibility. No matter what happens to me, at least I'm experiencing life again.
At least I'm not alone.
“Sophie.” Hearing my name from her shocks not only me but also her father, who halts his reading as she pats the spot beside her. “You’re not listening.”
“I am. I swear,” I say, struggling to regain my composure. Xavier sees me blink away my unsteady emotions and gives an understandably nervous smile as I sink down beside her. He resumes speaking, and she keeps glancing at me, occasionally confirming that I'm still focused on the story.
That is until the sprinklers spurt and sputter, raining water across the lawn.
Her excited squeal makes us laugh as we try to dodge the water while gathering the blankets and sweet treats.
Isabella darts across the lawn, more stumbling than running, actively seeking the spraying water despite Xavier’s objections.
The sun gleams over the gardens, shining radiance upon the trimmed hedge mazes we lost ourselves in on the eve of our wedding. The sweet fragrance of freshly cut grass drifts through the breeze as the red maple trees sway gently, their lush leaves whispering all around us.
My feet move on their own, bare against the earth, and for once, I feel as free as that child. Even in this place I’d tear down if it were within my ability, I can surrender myself to it.
Xavier’s laughter rings through the air as I grab Izzy, skipping through the sprinklers without care.
There’s no one to witness it. Security has been instructed to remain around the perimeter of the estate.
The man I married almost five years ago wouldn’t have allowed himself to join us.
He would’ve watched from a distance, determined to be as calm and calculated as his father always expected him to be .
“Daddy!”
The hesitation I always expect to see is there in his eyes.
That doesn’t stop him from jogging toward us, swinging Isabella off her feet until she squeals with delight. Gasping for breath, I let go of her hand, allowing her to run free as I feel the adrenaline rush surging through my veins.
I'm convinced the world is entirely gray beyond this place.
The sun can only find me here—where he is.
My eyes rest on Xavier’s heaving chest, his shirt clinging to his body as he glances at me.
Time halts for a moment.
All I can concentrate on is how his smile gradually fades, his eyes wincing as he pulls back from what’s about to be revealed, staring as if he’s just now seeing me again for the first time.
What exists between us now is so poignant that breathing sometimes becomes difficult.
Our love has always been powerful, but this—it’s something else entirely. It’s nothing short of a miracle that we’re here together… and I think he understands it, too.
My eyes close as he invades my airspace, my cheek naturally settling into his palm. Afraid of the love I feel for him, and for this moment, my lips quiver, struggling to accept that I'm not running, freezing, or looking over my shoulder.
He is home—the only home I’ve ever longed for.
His lips kiss away the tear that drifts past my cheek, trembling lips reassuring me that I'm not the only one losing myself to this. Throat-tight, I ease my eyes open, his face blurred by my tears. He kisses me, and they fall. He doesn’t shrink away when my fingers grasp his clothing, needing him closer, not even when we hear the soft pattering of Isabella’s feet.
Rather than tear him away, she molds to our legs, joining in on the embrace.