Chapter 41
Corine
Two months had passed since I returned to Los Angeles.
It felt like coming home, except everything was different.
I was different.
No more trembling hands every time the doorbell rang, no more waking up to imaginary whispers in the dark.
I wasn't entirely whole, not yet, but I was putting myself back together-one morning, one night, one deep breath at a time.
My parents had flown back to North Carolina once they were sure I could handle being alone again with the kids.
And I could.
I really could. For the first time in a long time, I could wake up and not feel like I was being crushed under the weight of my own mind.
Astrid turned two today.
I could barely believe it. It felt like she was just a baby in my arms, still smelling like powder and milk, clinging to my finger like it was her lifeline.
And now she was running around the house in her glittery pink dress, bossing poor Kyle around like she was royalty. Which, in a way, she was. My princess. My anchor.
"Mommy, where's the cake?!" Kyle yelled from the backyard. He was four and a half now, smart-mouthed and full of energy.
"It's coming, baby," I called out, smoothing the hem of my dress. I had gone with something soft and neutral, not too showy, but enough to look like I had things together. I didn't feel like I did, but I had to appear like it.
The backyard was decorated in soft pastels and golden accents. Brittany had helped me with everything-balloons, streamers, a cake that looked straight out of a magazine.
She came up behind me just then, sunglasses perched on her head, holding two paper cups of lemonade. "We really did a good job, didn't we?"
I smiled, touched her arm. "You saved me. Like always."
She rolled her eyes but grinned. "Someone's gotta keep you upright."
To my surprise, Tate and Sylvia walked in through the garden gate a few minutes later. I blinked in shock, nearly dropping my drink.
"You're here?" I asked, voice cracking.
Tate laughed as he approached me, arms wide open. "Damn right we are. We're out. Finally."
Sylvia hugged me tightly. "We wouldn't miss Astrid's party. And we've missed you, Corinne."
It warmed my chest to see them like this-smiling, looking like themselves again. After all we'd been through in the facility, I thought it would be years before we all stood in the same place, sane and somewhat whole.
Dylan, my sister, arrived shortly after with our parents. Her hair had gotten longer, and she brought a huge pink-wrapped box for Astrid. She hugged me so hard my ribs ached.
"You look... good," she said, her voice laced with pride and surprise.
"I feel okay," I replied truthfully.
"That's more than enough."
Then Allen arrived-an hour into the party, dressed in his usual quiet elegance: button-up, sleeves rolled, watch shining in the sun. He didn't come alone. His parents followed just behind, carrying gift bags and wearing smiles that had softened with time.
Astrid ran to him immediately, her little shoes kicking up grass. "Daddy!" she squealed.
He bent down to catch her mid-run, lifting her into the air as she giggled. Kyle followed a beat later, throwing his arms around Allen's waist.
"Hey, buddy," Allen said, ruffling his hair. "You helping your sister run this party or what?"
Kyle grinned. "She's bossy."
"She gets it from your mom," Allen said with a wink, just loud enough for me to hear.
I rolled my eyes, but my lips curved despite myself.
His parents, ever graceful, came up to greet me. Judith pulled me in for a hug, surprising me.
"Thank you for having us," she said. "We wouldn't miss our granddaughter's big day. Or our grandson's dramatic storytelling."
"He's been rehearsing for days," I said with a small laugh.
Greg, Allen's father, crouched beside Kyle and whispered something that made him burst out laughing.
For a moment, just one brief flicker of time, it looked like a family. Whole. Simple. Soft around the edges.
Allen walked up to me, Astrid on his hip, her tiny hand clutching his collar. He looked at me for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes.
"Thanks for letting us be here," he said quietly.
I nodded. "You didn't have to ask."
"I did," he said. "After everything."
I didn't have a response to that, not one that could be said in front of a two-year-old who had frosting on her cheek and glitter in her hair.
Later, while the kids were eating cake and Judith was teaching Astrid how to twirl in her party dress, Allen found me again, this time by the drink table. The hum of laughter buzzed in the background, but around us, it felt oddly still.
"You've done an incredible job with them," he said, nodding toward the kids.
"I'm trying," I replied, not looking at him. "Every day, I try."
"You're doing more than trying."
He hesitated. "Corinne, I know I failed you... and them, for a long time. I know showing up to a birthday party doesn't fix anything."
"No, it doesn't," I said softly. "But staying does."
He met my gaze. "I'm staying."
I blinked, not sure what that meant exactly. Not ready to hope.
"For them?" I asked.
"For them," he said immediately. Then, slower, more carefully, "And for whatever part of you still believes I can be better than I was."
That made my throat tighten. I turned away, pretending to look for Kyle in the crowd.
He didn't press. He just stood beside me, close but not crowding, quiet and steady. And maybe that was growth too.
Jasper showed up not long after, casual as ever-button-down open at the collar, sleeves rolled, hair a little messy from the wind. He greeted me with that grin that tugged at something in me.
"You made it," I breathed.
He raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't miss it."
Brittany shot him a look. "You said you weren't coming."
He shrugged. "I lied."
He didn't flinch when he saw Allen. Just gave him a small nod. Allen returned it-stiff, but respectful. Jasper turned his attention back to me.
"You holding up?"
"Better than expected," I admitted. "Thanks for checking."
We fell into an easy rhythm again-slicing cake, handing out plates, laughing at Kyle's ridiculous commentary about how he wanted to marry cake one day.
At one point, I caught sight of Allen kneeling beside Astrid as she opened a gift. He helped her untie the ribbon gently, her small fingers curled around his wrist. Kyle leaned into him, babbling about the Lego spaceship he was going to build with Allen "if he wasn't too busy doing boring dad stuff."
Allen chuckled. "I'll cancel all boring dad stuff. We've got a spaceship to build."
That sound-his laugh, their laughter-it didn't ache the way it used to. It didn't stab. It just... was.
The sun began to dip, fairy lights flickering on, painting everyone in gold.
Brittany leaned into me. "You're glowing."
"It's probably sweat," I muttered.
She shook her head. "It's peace. You're allowed to have that."
I scanned the backyard-Astrid dancing in her dress, Kyle holding Allen's hand, Judith adjusting her granddaughter's tiara, Greg pretending to be a villain in Kyle's imaginary space mission.
And Jasper.
Just a few feet away, hands in his pockets, looking at me like I was something worth showing up for.
The ache in my chest didn't hurt anymore.
Maybe it was healing.
Maybe it was hope.
Either way, it was mine.
And for today, that was more than enough.