The rest of my afternoon was spent compiling information and resources online and putting a bit of a presentation together to show Roman. At a certain point, it actually made more sense organizationally to make a PowerPoint, so that I knew what I wanted to start with and ways to show all of the research I had done.

There were gaps that I had in it that I knew I would need Roman to assist with. Mostly budgeting and securing a building, but I would also appreciate him opening up the lines of communications with his manufacturers.

I worried that it was too much to ask of him, when I was meant to be the one to do it. I decided to cross securing a building off the list of things for him to help with. I would go scout out options, and once I was ready to put an offer in, I would ask for him to just check things. Getting his help with budgeting and communication with manufacturers were far more important.

We ate dinner and talked about his day, and I could hardly wait to show him all that I had put together. I had wanted to wait until after dinner so that there was nothing that would pull us away from it. The moment he put his fork down, I was pulling him up to our bedroom so I could put it on the projector.

As I stood against the wall, with tablet in hand to control the slideshow, I felt like the professional I had tried to be the day before. He sat at the end of the bed with his hands clasped together in his lap and a smile on his face.

"So, Lori and I realized at lunch that I do want to start a non-profit—and it’s going to be for women in need. Specifically, those escaping sex work, human trafficking, and abusive situations. My idea is to obtain an apartment building and the first two floors would be solely for resources. A dining room that serves three meals a day, group therapy, private therapy, financial counselors, and a supply room to give them clothes, toiletries, and so on."

"We would likely have to have a base staff that we pay, specifically the counselors and advocates so that we can have qualified professionals. Though for the advocates, I was thinking about touching base with the local universities and maybe setting up a sort of studied internship with graduate students going into public service. As far as other paid staff, cooks, security guards to help deescalate any issues that may take place. These women are probably going to be in flight-or-fight mode, and so I think it’s a safe measure to take to assume fights are bound to happen." I moved to the next slide.

"I’m hoping that a strong marketing effort could draw in volunteers to assist with duties like cleaning, escorting the women around town for errands, and other tasks. I think we could also partner with local businesses to set up systems for donation, like how the grocery store sometimes asks if you would like to round your change up to the next dollar for such-and-such charity. That way we have community support, so that it isn’t a total drain on you. Though, I did look up the tax breaks on running something like this, and it’s pretty good."

I took a deep breath. "All in all, I really think that this could be something that really gives back to the community, gives some purpose to what I’ve been through, and is something that we could eventually let go of and only have to contribute minimally or monetarily. It’ll be a pretty sizable start-up cost, but I would like to eventually get to a point where donations and fundraisers are so significant that we have a surplus of money, to set up scholarships and funds for the women going through the program."

I took a deep breath and started on the last leg of my speech. "I really want to spearhead this myself. I’ll find the building and source all of the staff myself. The parts I will need your help on are budgeting and sourcing some manufacturers. While I know we could do supply drives, I think that it would be a safer bet to have a reliable source of supplies. I don’t want to run into a situation where they have to wait for clothing donations to come in. So if you have manufacturers that make clothing and toiletries, that would be great. Or maybe help me network some?"

He sat there silently for a moment, but I could tell by the look on his face that he was at the very least pleased.

"I’m so impressed," he finally commented. "You did so much research and put a great deal of thought into this and have a great to-do list built. And all for the perfect cause."

He motioned me over and he pulled me down into his lap. "We have a clothing manufacturer, so that won’t be a problem. I’ll talk to that side of the company tomorrow to see if we can find a parent company to donate the toiletries you need. If not, I can at least organize to buy those things in industrial bulk to save on it. I’ll start researching for the budget while you go look for the building of your dreams. I only ask one thing."

"And that is?" I asked, my heart thumping into anticipation.

"You travel with a bodyguard from now on. It was fine while you were here since we have security, but if you’re going to be dabbling in this work, I would feel better with you having reliable protection," he stated, a graveness to his voice that let me know he was concerned.

"That’s fine with me," I assured him and gave him a big kiss. "Do you think it’s the right thing to do?"

He brushed the hair from my face. "I think it’s the best thing you could put your time into. I can tell you care about this, and I want to help make it happen any way I can."

I grinned and kissed him again and hugged his neck. "Thank you. This means so much to me."

After another couple of minutes of talking, I stood and headed to the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I have someone else I need help from," I explained. Shutting the door behind me, I walked down the hall and paused outside of Kristen’s door.

My heart squeezed with anxiety. Part of me didn’t want to ask her to be involved, afraid that it would be too painful for her. However, I had seen for myself how much she had itched to get involved with the investigation. The least I could do, was extend an offer.

Knocking on the door, I stood back and waited. Much to my surprise, there was noise from within. After a few seconds, the door opened.

She looked as collected and confident as ever. She smiled at me with a curious twinkle in her eye. "What’s up?"

"I have something to ask you," I began. She gestured me inside and we sat down on her bed.

The last time we had done that, we were shortly after sneaking out to go clubbing. It somehow felt like a lifetime ago, even if it had only been a couple months.

After taking a deep breath, I gave her an abbreviated version of what I had just told Roman.

By the end of it, I finally came out with the part that involved her. "So, in this non-profit, there’s going to be a lot of roles that need filled. I was wondering if you would like to get involved? You could be an advocate, out in the community to help find women in need, or even help with security. Be around the shelter to help deescalate any situations that can kick off."

Her eyes were glowing with emotion.

"That’s... that’s a perfect idea," she breathed. "I had been wanting to do something similar, but I guess I had a more vigilante approach." She chuckled softly. "I would love to help. Maybe I’ll wear a few different hats, but I definitely want to be an advocate out in the community. That’s just... I don’t know. Thank you. Thank you for this opportunity."

She hugged me so tightly that I couldn’t breathe. I hugged her back. It took me a moment to realize, when she wasn’t letting go, that she was crying. I squeezed her even harder.

A bit of guilt seized my heart, thinking I should have given more of an effort to check in on her since everything ended. At least, starting then, we would be working together. I hoped that whatever difficult emotions she was processing, the center would be a good resource, as well as an outlet, for her.

We sat there for a while longer, letting her collect herself. When she pulled back, she thanked me again.

Once I knew she was okay, I headed out to give her time to process. It could have been a heavy moment, but it was a joyful one.

She was healing, and they hadn’t been sad tears. They had been tears of relief.