Chapter 23
Alice
Iwake up the next morning and reach for my phone then stop. For the first time in over a year, I don't need to check for threatening texts. Lance is in jail. He can't hurt me anymore.
My shoulders drop. I didn't even realize I'd been holding them so tight.
I stayed at Madison’s last night after Sawyer arrested Lance. She fussed over me, made me tea, and let me talk through everything that happened. But mostly, I just felt this incredible lightness, like a weight I’d been carrying for months had finally been lifted.
Lance is gone. Really, truly gone.
My phone buzzes with a text from Sawyer.
Sawyer: How are you feeling this morning?
Me: A lot better actually, thanks to you.
Sawyer: Good. I can swing by around noon to look at your door if you want.
Me: Would you really? I would really appreciate that.
Madison drives me back to my house around eleven.
The morning sun is too bright, too cheerful for what I'm about to face. The broken door chain is still hanging there, a reminder of yesterday’s nightmare.
But instead of making me feel scared, it just makes me angry.
How dare Lance break into my home and put his hands on me.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Madison asks as we pull into the driveway.
“I’m sure. Sawyer’s coming by soon anyway.”
“Ooh, the knight in shining armor.” She grins.
“We’re just friends.”
“Sure you are.” Madison rolls her eyes. “Ali, the man arrested your psycho ex-boyfriend.”
“In his defense, it’s his job,” I point out. “He saw someone assault me.”
“Honey, there’s a difference between doing your job and caring about someone.”
Sawyer shows up right at noon, carrying a toolbox and a bag from the hardware store.
“I got you a new deadbolt,” he says, holding up the bag. “And a security chain for an extra layer of protection.”
“You didn’t have to do all of this.”
“Yes, I did.” His voice is firm. “Your safety matters, Alicat.”
We work together to install the new locks. Well, Sawyer does most of the work while I hand him tools and definitely don't focus on the way his shirt sleeves are rolled up.
“There,” he says, testing the deadbolt. “Much better.”
“I’ll find a way to repay you somehow.”
“You don’t need to repay me.” He steps closer, and I can smell his cologne. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
We're standing close, closer than we usually do. His hand is still on the doorframe, and mine is gripping the screwdriver like it's the only thing keeping me upright. I can see the question in his eyes.
Then my phone rings, breaking the moment. I set down the screwdriver and answer.
Mom flashes on the screen.
I consider not answering, but I know she’ll just keep calling until I pick up.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Alice Marie Campbell, what is this I’m hearing about Lance being arrested?”
My good mood evaporates instantly. I adjust my glasses nervously. “How did you hear that?” My hand tightens around the phone.
“Margaret called me this morning. She’s beside herself. Lance spent the night in jail because of you.”
That doesn’t surprise me at all. Lance’s mom always runs to my mother when something happens between us. It’s like high school all over again.
I look at Sawyer, who’s listening but trying to pretend he’s not. “Lance spent the night in jail because he broke into my house and assaulted me.”
“That’s not what I heard. I heard you had him arrested over some misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” Heat rises in my chest. “Mom, he had a GPS tracker on my car. He’s been stalking me.”
“Oh, Alice. He was just trying to keep you safe.”
“There is nothing safe about Lance.”
There’s a pause. Then Mom’s voice gets that cold tone I remember from childhood. “Well, I hope you’re happy. You’ve ruined that boy’s life over nothing.”
I glance at Sawyer again. His jaw is tight, and I can tell he’s getting angry on my behalf. I never knew the exact moment my relationship with my mom went sour, but I don’t remember it ever being particularly sweet either.
“I have to go, Mom.”
“This isn’t over, Alice. Lance’s family won’t let this stand. And neither will I.”
She hangs up before I can respond.
I set my phone down and look at Sawyer. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“You don’t have to apologize. She’s wrong, you know.”
“I know she is. But she’s never going to see it that way.” I sit down heavily on my couch. “She works for Lance's family. Has for years. I think her paycheck matters more than I ever did.”
Sawyer sits down next to me. “That doesn’t mean she’s right.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I lean back against the cushions, suddenly tired. “I just wish she could take my side for once. Just once.”
I look at him, really look at him. “Thank you. For everything. For protecting me, for fixing my door, for just believing me.”
Sawyer reaches over and takes my hand. “You don’t have to thank me for caring about you.”
Before I can say anything, he leans closer. This time, no phone interrupts us. His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheek, and I can feel my heart pounding.
But then he stops, his forehead resting against mine.
"I want to kiss you," he whispers. "But not like this.
Not when you're still processing everything that happened yesterday.
Not when you're exhausted and your mother just—" He pulls back slightly, and I can see the restraint in his eyes.
"You deserve better than me kissing you in the middle of all this chaos. "
My breath catches. I reach up to adjust my glasses—they'd gone crooked from how close we were. "What if I want the chaos?"
"Then I'll still be here tomorrow. And the day after that.
" He takes my hand and squeezes it. "I'm not going anywhere, Alicat.
When I kiss you, I want you to have no doubts.
No trauma echoing in your head. No mother's voice telling you you're not enough.
" His voice softens. "I want you to be completely certain. "
"I am certain," I say quietly.
"Good." He smiles, that soft smile that makes my chest feel warm. "Then we have all the time in the world."
I pull out my phone and delete my mother's contact. I don't need her voice in my head anymore.
Sawyer watches but doesn't comment. He just squeezes my hand.
For the first time since Lance came back into my life, everything feels right.
But even as I sit here in this perfect moment, my mother's words echo in my head: "This isn't over."
I push the thought away.
For now, I let myself believe it.