Chapter 9
Caden
"I'm scared all the time."
The words fall out before I can catch them. I stare at the ceiling of the therapy room, my hands twisted in my lap, the sound of the wall clock louder than it should be. My voice sounds small in the quiet space, like it doesn't belong to me.
My therapist, Dr. Tate, doesn't flinch. He just waits, giving me the silence that feels safe instead of heavy.
"Scared of failing. Of screwing this up. Of being less than what they need." I exhale slowly, the breath shaking its way out of me. "I used to think I was brave. Before. Now I wake up some mornings and I don't even want to open my eyes."
Dr. Tate leans forward slightly. "What would failing look like to you?"
"Letting them down," I say, the truth hot in my throat. "Letting Lucy down. Letting my kid down. Being... absent. Even when I'm there. I saw what that did to my dad. I swore I'd never be like that."
"You've already broken that cycle by showing up," he says. "By being honest about your fear. That's courage too."
I shake my head. "It doesn't feel brave. It feels weak."
"It's not. It's love. And love isn't about being fearless. It's about choosing them through the fear."
I look down at my hands. They're calloused again. Stronger than they were weeks ago. Still shaking sometimes, still clumsy. But not useless. They're hands that can hold, protect. Build.
"I want to be enough for them," I whisper.
"Then keep doing what you're doing," Dr. Tate says. "One step. One truth. One breath at a time."
The waiting room smells of lemon cleaner and new magazines. I sit next to Lucy, her hand wrapped in mine, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. It's almost embarrassing how tightly I'm holding on. She doesn't comment, but leans into me.
While she looks calm, I feel like I'm coming out of my skin. Noah got me special permission to join Lucy at her OB appointment and ultrasound today, and I have no idea what to expect.
The nurse calls her name, and we walk back together. I let Lucy lead. I feel like I'm still learning how to be a part of this, as if I'm trying to walk into a life that was already building itself in my absence.
The ultrasound tech is kind. She smiles and pulls out a warmed gel bottle. Lucy lies back, shirt pulled up, her belly rounded and perfect. My breath catches in my throat.
The tech places the wand on her stomach, and the screen lights up.
That shape. That heartbeat. That flicker of movement.
"There's your baby," the tech says.
I don't blink. I can't even breathe.
Lucy turns her head to look at me. I can't tear my eyes away from the screen.
"You see that?" she whispers.
"Yeah," I manage, my voice barely working. "That's ours."
The baby kicks, and I swear my heart stutters. The sound of the heartbeat fills the room, loud and strong. My throat closes up.
"Would you like to know the sex?" the tech asks.
Lucy looks at me, her eyes sparkling. I nod, too full to speak.
"It's a girl."
I think my heart stops. Then it starts again, too fast. Too full.
A girl.
A daughter.
Lucy squeezes my hand, and I look at her. She's crying softly. I reach up and brush the tears from her cheek.
"A girl," I repeat, stunned.
The tech prints out the image and hands it to Lucy, then quietly leaves us alone.
"You okay?" Lucy asks.
"I don't think I've ever been this okay," I say.
My phone rings as we walk back to the truck. I see North's name and swipe to answer.
"Hey, man."
"Caden. Damn, it's good to hear your voice. How's the leg?"
"Still gone, using the prosthetic more. You?" I ask as I open the driver's side door for Lucy to get in. She might have to drive us, but she sure as hell isn't opening her own door.
"Bored outta my mind and ready to be home. They've got us doing laps around the same stretch of desert every day. It's like Groundhog Day with less charm."
I laugh, and it feels good.
"I've got news," I say.
"Yeah?"
I glance at Lucy beside me, the ultrasound photo resting on her purse.
"I'm gonna be a dad."
There's a beat of silence, then a loud whoop.
"Holy shit, Caden! Are you serious? That's amazing. Wait… Lucy, right?"
"Yeah."
"Damn, man. You were the one who made me want to wear the uniform. Now you're gonna be a dad? That's badass."
I swallow around the lump in my throat. "It's a girl."
"You're so screwed."
"Tell me about it."
We laugh, and for a moment, everything feels simple and clear.
"I can't wait to meet her," North says.
"She's got a hell of a village waiting," I reply.
That night, Lucy drives us out to the open field behind Oakside, following my instructions. The stars are already dusting the sky, and the air smells like earth and memory.
She looks around, curious. "What are we doing out here?"
Opening the truck door, I pull out the rolled-up blueprints I've been hiding in the backseat.
"I want to build something," I say. "For you. For us. For her."
I spread the sketches out on the hood of the truck. My hand rests on the pencil marks. There’s the porch, the nursery, and the window seat I know Lucy would love.
Her eyes fill. She looks at me, hands over her mouth.
"You drew these?"
"I'm gonna make them real. I want this to be our home.
I want our daughter to run barefoot through this grass and fall asleep listening to the crickets.
Noah bought a bunch of this land when they purchased Oakside, and he set aside some for you and Grace.
This is yours, and where I thought we would build. "
Lucy steps closer, her hand landing over mine on the blueprints.
"Let's do it," she whispers.
We kiss under the stars, slow and deep and full of every promise I've ever wanted to keep.
Her hands slide into my hair. Mine rest on her hips, then over her belly and up to her chest. I feel her heart beating under my palm.
"Get in the truck," she says urgently, pulling back from me.
She drives us over to the caretaker's cabin, where I had her the first time, where I'm sure our daughter was conceived. It is the perfect place for us to come back together intimately.
I lead Lucy through the cabin door, my heart racing like this is our first time. In a way, it is. Our first time since I've been back, since I've been whole enough to love her properly.
The cabin looks different in the moonlight. Cleaner. Someone's been tending to it. I wonder if she came out here to be closer to us. I know I would have. But tonight isn't about the past.
Lucy's hands slide under my shirt as we stumble through the doorway, her touch igniting something primal in me.
The cabin feels sacred somehow, as if we've come full circle.
This place where we first gave ourselves to each other now holds us again, different people, changed by time and pain, even so, still us at our core.
"I've missed you," she whispers against my neck, her breath hot on my skin. "Every inch of you."
I easily lifted her, and her legs wrapped around my waist perfectly. The weight of her, the curve of her belly between us, makes my throat tight with emotion. I carry her to the bedroom, my steps steadier than I would have thought possible weeks ago.
As I lay Lucy down gently on the bed, I’m careful of her growing belly.
"You okay?" I ask, hovering above her, searching her face for any sign of hesitation.
She reaches up and traces the line of my jaw, her touch feather-light. "I'm better than okay. I'm home."
Those words hit me square in the chest. Home. That's what she is to me, what she's always been. My constant. My compass. My way back.
I undress her slowly, my hands reacquainting themselves with every curve. Her skin is softer than I remembered, warmer. When my palm spreads across her belly, our daughter kicks against it, and I nearly come undone right there.
"She knows it's you," Lucy breathes, her hand covering mine.
"Hey there, little one," I whisper to her stomach, my voice thick. "It's your Daddy."
Another kick, stronger this time, and Lucy laughs, the sound I've been starving for. I lean down and press my lips to her belly, to the place where our daughter grows.
When I look up, Lucy's eyes are bright with tears. "I love you," she says, every word heavy with meaning.
"I love you too, Sunshine. Both of you."
I kiss my way back up to her lips, savoring each inch of her like a man who's been dying of thirst. The way her body responds to mine, it's as if we were never apart. My body remembers exactly how to move with hers.
"I thought about this," I whisper against her collarbone. "Every night in the desert, and in that hospital bed. Every minute of PT. Getting back to you."
"Show me," she breathes, her hands sliding down my chest to the waistband of my jeans.
I hesitate.
"Don't," Lucy whispers, sensing my hesitation. "Don't overthink this."
I meet her eyes in the dim light as I remove my jeans. "I'm different now. My body's…"
"Still yours," she finishes, sitting up to press her lips against the scar tissue where my thigh meets the prosthetic. "Still perfect to me."
Her touch sends electricity through me, even where I shouldn't be able to feel it. I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the tenderness of her gesture.
"Let me," she says, and slowly begins removing the rest of my clothes.
Then I let her undress me, watching her face as she reveals the place where flesh meets metal. Her expression doesn't change—no pity, no discomfort, just Lucy, loving all of me.
She leans down and presses her lips to the scarred skin above my prosthetic. The tenderness of it cracks my heart wide open. When she looks up, I can barely breathe.
"You're beautiful," she whispers, her hands mapping the changed landscape of my body. "Every part of you."
I pull her back up to me, needing her mouth on mine. The kiss is desperate, hungry, months of separation and fear and longing poured into the connection of our lips. She tastes like home and promises, like everything I fought to get back to.
Carefully, I roll us so she's on top, her belly rounding between us as she leans down to kiss me. The position lets me see all of her in the moonlight streaming through the windows, golden hair spilling over her shoulders, skin luminous, eyes dark with want.
"I need you," I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. "I need all of you."
She reaches between us, guiding me to her entrance.
The first touch of her heat against me makes my head fall back against the pillow.
When she sinks slowly, I let myself be completely vulnerable as Lucy moves above me, her body taking me in inch by inch.
The feeling is overwhelming, better than I remembered, more intense after so much time apart.
When she's fully seated, she pauses, her hands splayed across my chest, her eyes anchored with mine.
"I dreamed of this," she whispers, rocking against me. "Every night."
My hands find her hips, guiding her movements. The way her body has changed, fuller breasts, the swell of her belly, makes my throat tight with emotion. This is mine. My family. My future taking shape right before my eyes.
"You're so beautiful, Sunshine," I breathe, watching her move in the moonlight. Her head falls back, blonde hair cascading down her spine as she finds her rhythm.
I watch her face in the moonlight, a look of pure pleasure washing over her features as she rides me.
The way her body moves above mine is hypnotic, poetry in motion, and everything I've been missing.
I memorize every detail: the flush spreading across her chest, the soft sounds she makes when I hit the right spot, the way her hands grip my shoulders for balance.
The changes in her body make me ache with love and pride. She's carrying our daughter, our future, and still giving herself to me completely.
"God, Lucy," I groan, my hands sliding up her sides to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks. She gasps, her rhythm faltering.
I feel whole here with her, all my broken pieces finding their place. The prosthetic that replaced my leg doesn't matter, not when Lucy looks at me like this, not when she takes all of me without hesitation.
"I missed you," she breathes, leaning forward to press her forehead against mine. "I missed us."
"I missed you too," I whisper back, my voice breaking on the words. "Every damn second."
She kisses me then, deep and desperate, her body moving faster above me. I can feel her getting close, the way her breath hitches, the way she tightens around me. I shift my hips, changing the angle, and she cries out against my mouth.
"That's it, Sunshine," I murmur, one hand sliding between us to where we're joined. "Let go for me."
When she comes apart, it's with my name on her lips and her body clenching around me like she never wants to let me go. The sight of her, head thrown back, and body arching in bliss, unravels me. I follow her with a groan torn straight from my soul.
She collapses against my chest, both of us breathing hard. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against my chest. Our daughter kicks between us, and I can't help the smile that crosses my face.
"She's awake," Lucy murmurs against my neck.
"Probably wondering what all the commotion is about," I say, my hand finding her belly.
Lucy lifts her head to look at me, her hair falling like a curtain around us. "Think she approves?"
"She’d better get used to it," I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I plan on loving her mama for a very long time."
Lucy's smile is radiant in the moonlight. "Good. Because we're not going anywhere."
That night, after Lucy falls asleep curled against my side, I stare at the ceiling of the old cabin, the one where we began. And I start planning.
Not just surviving. Not just hoping. Building. Becoming.
Becoming the man who deserves this life.