Chapter 222: Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-two

Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-two

Alicia’s POV

Catherine accepted the director position the next morning.

"After last night, I’m convinced this foundation is exactly where I need to be," she said over coffee while Lia played in her bouncer nearby. "You’re doing important work. Life-saving work. And you need someone with my background to help manage the security concerns that come with it."

"Security concerns?" I asked.

"Abusive men don’t like their victims escaping. Some of them will come looking. Some will be dangerous. You need protocols in place to protect the women you’re helping and the people doing the helping."

She was right. I’d been so focused on getting women out that I hadn’t fully considered what happened when their abusers came looking for them.

"I’ll defer to your expertise," I said. "Whatever protocols you think we need, implement them."

"Good. I’ll start immediately." She paused. "What are you going to do about your father?"

"Let Marco handle it. He’s pressing charges for the escape, for the threats, for everything. My father will be in prison for years. Long enough that he’s not a threat anymore."

"And you’re okay with that? With your father being in prison?"

"He stopped being my father a long time ago. Now he’s just someone who needs to be stopped from hurting people. If prison does that, then I’m okay with it."

Catherine nodded approvingly. "You’re stronger than you think you are."

"I’ve had good teachers. My mother. Signora Moretti. Malachi. All of them showed me what strength looks like."

After Catherine left to start setting up her office, I spent the morning with Lia. She was trying to crawl now, getting up on her hands and knees and rocking back and forth with fierce determination.

"You’re so close," I encouraged her. "Just one little movement forward."

She rocked harder, her face scrunched with concentration, and then suddenly she was moving. Not gracefully. Not smoothly. But forward. Actually crawling forward.

"Malachi!" I yelled. "She’s crawling! Lia’s crawling!"

He came running from his office, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush to see.

"Show me. Do it again, Lia."

Lia looked at him, seemed to understand what we wanted, and crawled three more wobbly movements before collapsing on her belly.

"She’s brilliant," Malachi said, his voice full of awe. "Look at her. Not even seven months old and already crawling."

"She’s determined. Wants to explore everything."

"We’re going to have to babyproof the entire villa."

"We’re going to have to babyproof our entire lives."

We spent the next hour watching Lia practice her new skill, both of us ridiculously proud of something every baby eventually did. But it felt monumental. Like proof that she was growing and developing and becoming her own person.

My phone rang. Sophie.

"I heard about Dad," she said immediately. "About everything. Are you okay?"

"I’m fine. We’re all fine. He can’t hurt us anymore."

"Good. Because I was ready to leave school and come protect you myself if necessary."

"That won’t be necessary. Travis actually helped stop him."

"Travis? Really?"

"Really. He’s trying to be better. Trying to make amends."

"Wow. People really can change."

"Some people. When they want it badly enough."

We talked for a while longer about school and Luca and her plans for winter break. She was happy. Thriving. Building a life that had nothing to do with our father or our painful past.

That’s what I’d wanted for her. What I’d fought for all those years when I stayed with Travis to protect her. She was free now. Safe. Happy.

That made everything worth it.

After we hung up, Malachi came to find me. "Travis called. He and Emily are coming to visit next week. Before the wedding. He wants to apologize properly. Face to face."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Conflicted. Part of me wants to believe he’s really changed. Part of me is still waiting for him to disappoint me again."

"That’s fair. He has a lot to prove."

"But he’s trying. That counts for something."

The week passed quickly. The foundation helped two more women escape dangerous situations. Lia mastered crawling and immediately started trying to pull herself up on furniture. Malachi signed three new consulting contracts.

Life was busy and full and exactly what we’d been building toward.

When Travis and Emily arrived, the tension was immediate but not hostile. More like everyone was being careful, watching for signs of trouble that might not come.

"Thank you for having us," Emily said, holding a gift bag. "We brought something for Lia."

Inside was a beautiful handmade blanket with her name embroidered on it.

"This is lovely," I said. "Thank you."

"I made it myself. In therapy. My counselor suggested I find creative outlets." Emily smiled wryly. "Apparently I’m better at knitting than I am at revenge plots."

The tension broke slightly. We all laughed.

Travis held Lia while we talked, his face soft with wonder. "She’s so big. So alert."

"She’s crawling now. And trying to pull up on everything."

"She’s going to be walking soon. Running. Getting into everything."

"We’re terrified," Malachi admitted.

"You’ll be great parents. You already are."

We had lunch in the garden. Talked about the wedding plans. About Emily’s job as a counselor at a rehab center. About Travis’s work helping other people get sober.

"I want to apologize," Travis said during a lull in conversation. "For everything. For the years I hurt you, Alicia. For the man I was. For every bruise and every cruel word and every moment I made you feel small."

"Travis—"

"No, let me finish. I can’t take any of it back. Can’t undo the damage I did. But I can acknowledge it. Can own it. Can promise that I’ll spend the rest of my life being better. Being the man I should have been all along."

"I forgive you," I said quietly. "Not because you deserve it. But because I deserve peace. And holding onto anger doesn’t serve me anymore."

"Thank you. That means more than you know."

Emily took his hand. "We’re both trying to be better. Both working on ourselves every day. It’s hard. But it’s worth it."

"It is," I agreed, looking at Malachi. "Being better is always worth it."

After lunch, Travis pulled Malachi aside. I watched them through the window, two brothers who’d been through hell together and separately, trying to find their way back to each other.

"They look good together," Emily said, following my gaze. "Like they’re healing."

"I hope so. Malachi needs his brother. Even if he doesn’t always admit it."

"And you? Do you need Travis in your life?"

I thought about it. "Not in the way I used to. Not as someone I’m afraid of or trying to please or walking on eggshells around. But maybe as family. Complicated, messy family who shows up for weddings and sends gifts for Lia and tries to be better together."

"I can live with that."

"Me too."

When they left that evening, promising to see us at the wedding, Malachi and I stood in the driveway watching them drive away.

"That went better than expected," I said.

"Much better. He really is trying."

"We all are. That’s what makes this work."

We went inside. Fed Lia. Put her to bed. Fell into our own bed exhausted but content.

"One month until the wedding," Malachi said.

"One month until we go back to Dark City and face everyone."

"Nervous?"

"A little. But also ready. Ready to show them who we are now. What we’ve built. That we’re happy."

"We are happy."

"We really are."

He pulled me closer, his hand resting on my hip, his breath warm against my neck. "I love this life. This ordinary, beautiful, complicated life we’ve built."

"Me too. It’s everything I never knew I wanted."

"What do you want now? Right now?"

I turned to face him, my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my palm. "This. Just this. You and me and Lia asleep down the hall and our whole future ahead of us."

"That’s all?"

"That’s everything."

He kissed me, slow and deep, and I melted into him with the kind of trust that still amazed me. This man who’d once terrified me. Who I’d run from. Who I’d been convinced was a monster.

This man who was now my husband, my partner, my everything.

We made love quietly, carefully, aware of Lia sleeping nearby. And afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, I felt it settle over me like a blanket.

Contentment. Pure contentment.

This was the life my mother had chosen when she’d run away with my father. The life she’d wanted for me. Love and family and the freedom to be myself.

I’d found it. Against all odds, through impossible circumstances, I’d found it.

And I was never letting it go.