Chapter Thirty-One #2
Zeke was last. He pulled me into his arms and held me for a long moment, his chin resting on top of my head. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For what I said. For comparing you to Shirley. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I forgive you.”
He pulled back, his hands gripping my shoulders. “You call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I don’t care what it is or what time it is. You call me.”
“I will,” I said, smiling through my tears. “I promise.”
He nodded, then stepped back, his jaw tight.
And then there was only Faith as she stood at the edge of the porch, her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her face. I walked toward her slowly, feeling like every step was tearing something inside me.
When I reached her, I stopped, unable to speak.
“Come here,” she whispered, opening her arms.
I fell into her embrace, and the dam broke. I clung to her, sobbing, my hands fisting in the back of her shirt. “I don’t want to go,” I choked out. “Faith, I don’t want to leave you.”
“I know,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know, sweetheart. But you have to. You have a husband now. A life. A future.”
“But you’re my family,” I said desperately. “You’re my home.”
“And I always will be,” Faith said, pulling back to look at me. Her hands cupped my face, her thumbs brushing away my tears. “No matter where you go or how far away you are, I will always be your home. You carry me with you, Hope. Always.”
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
“You’re going to be okay,” Faith continued, her voice steady despite her tears. “You’re going to build a beautiful life with Chapman. You’re going to be a wonderful mother to Aurora. You’re going to be happy. And I’m going to be so proud of you.”
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I know,” she said gently. “But you’re also brave. And strong. And so full of love. You’re going to be amazing, Hope. I know it.”
I hugged her again, holding on as tightly as I could, trying to memorize every detail. The way her arms felt around me. The sound of her heartbeat. The warmth of her presence. “I love you,” I whispered. “Thank you for everything. For raising me. For loving me. For being the mother I needed.”
Faith’s breath hitched, and she held me tighter. “I love you too, Hope. So much. You’ve been my greatest joy.”
We stood there for what felt like hours, neither of us willing to let go. But eventually, Chapman’s hand touched my shoulder gently. “Hope,” he said softly. “We need to go, baby.”
I nodded, pulling back from Faith slowly. Her hands slipped from my shoulders, and I felt the loss immediately.
“Go,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “Go be happy.”
I took a step back, then another, my eyes locked on hers. Charity and Joy moved to stand beside Faith, all three of them crying, all three of them watching me leave.
Chapman’s hand found mine, his fingers lacing through mine, and I turned to look at him. His eyes were gentle, understanding. “You ready?” he asked quietly.
I looked back at my sisters one more time. At Faith, who had been my anchor. At Charity, who had been my partner. At Joy, who had been my light. “No,” I whispered. “But let’s go anyway.”
Chapman nodded and led me toward the truck where Digger and Stella were waiting.
Slaughter’s motorcycle hitched up behind it on a trailer.
Digger’s expression was soft, knowing, as he had watched this family bond over the past few days, had seen the depth of love that held us together.
“Take your time,” he said quietly as we approached.
I climbed into the truck, and Chapman slid in beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. I leaned into him, my eyes still on the porch where my sisters stood.
Faith raised her hand in a small wave, and I pressed my palm against the window, wishing I could reach through the glass and touch her one more time.
The engine started, and the truck began to move as I watched through the rear window as the farmhouse grew smaller.
As my sisters became tiny figures on the porch.
As Faith’s hand remained raised until we turned the corner and she disappeared from view, and then I turned around, buried my face in Chapman’s chest, and cried.
He held me tightly, his hand stroking my hair, his voice a low murmur in my ear.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Hope. You’re not alone. ”
“I know,” I whispered. “I know.”
But it didn’t make it hurt any less. I was leaving behind the woman who had raised me. The sisters who had stood beside me. The home that had sheltered me. I was stepping into a new life. One filled with love and promise, and hope.
But God, it hurt. It hurt so much.
Chapman pressed a kiss to the top of my head, and I felt his own tears fall into my hair.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “For choosing me. For leaving everything behind. I know what it cost you, Hope. And I swear to God, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”
I pulled back to look at him, my vision blurring with tears. “I won’t regret it. I could never regret you.”
He kissed me then, soft and gentle, and I tasted salt on his lips.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered, and as the truck carried us toward Tennessee, toward our future, I held onto that love like a lifeline.
Because it was all I had left.