Page 117 of Where We Call Home

I set the camera down and stepped closer, reaching out a tentative hand. My finger brushed against the baby’s tiny, delicate hand, her skin impossibly soft.

“Hi, Frankie,” I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of the love flooding my chest.

Forty-Three

She was finally here.

Frankie lay peacefully in her bassinet next to my hospital bed, and all I wanted to do was hold her. I wanted to press her perfectly round face to mine, kiss the tip of her button nose, and promise her I’d never let her go.

This was the fresh start I’d been searching for. Looking at her, I knew it was all worth it. Every sleepless night trying to find comfort, every tough decision—everything had led to this moment. And then there was him. The man who had stood by my side from the moment I returned to Faircloud. Helping me, supporting me, loving me. Rhodes had taught me that slowing down and settling into life was worth it. All that running, running from this town, running from myself, was nothing but preparation to bring me here.

Did I regret the choices I’d made? No. I understood that every twist and turn had guided me back to Faircloud, to my mom, to my best friends, and to Rhodes. This was where I belonged. I belongedhome.

The door creaked open, and Rhodes stepped in, his hands full, a huge grin lighting up his face.

“I’ve got crackers, a cookie, and some sour gummies,” he said, depositing his haul onto the table tray before collapsing into the chair he hadn’t left much since I’d given birth.

“Gummies, please,” I whispered, careful not to wake the baby as I reached out my hand.

My mind wandered as I chewed, slipping into memories and moments of quiet reflection. The past few days had given me plenty of time to think. Breastfeeding in silence—though I hated it because getting Frankie to latch was an exercise in frustration. Quiet moments while she slept and the nurses insisted I rest proved to be the time for the deep thoughts to come rolling in, like when I stared blankly at the wall, waiting for Rhodes to return.

The weight of unspoken words pressed on me, climbing up my throat and begging to be released, to bridge the space between us.

“Rhodes?” I asked, my voice soft as I popped another gummy into my mouth and chewed slowly.

“Hmm?” He glanced at me, brushing crumbs from his jeans.

I hesitated. Talking about things like this didn’t come naturally to me. Confronting my emotions and voicing them out loud still made me squirm, it was all still new, but I was working on it. I squared my shoulders and decided to say it anyway.

“When I lost my dad, I became a shell of myself.” Rhodes sat up straighter, giving me his undivided attention. “Moving here was the best decision my mom ever made. It gave us a second chance, a place to start over with a new identity. I wasn’t just the girl whose dad had died anymore. The teachers didn’t give me special attention out of pity, and the whispers in the hallways stopped. I finally had the opportunity to beTheo. When I looked inside, she wasn’t there. Instead, I found someone new, someone I didn’t recognize.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, warm against my skin. I wiped it away with a quick sniffle, trying to steady myself.

There was so much I wanted to say, a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings pressing to get out. But this mattered—telling Rhodes mattered.

“I retreated. I stopped showing attachment or letting myself care because deep down, I blamed myself. This voice inside me screamed that it was all my fault—that if I hadn’t begged my dad to come to my stupid soccer game, he’d still be here.” I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and humorless. “God, it sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? Ten-year-old Theo believed it. She carried that weight around for a while. It changed her, changed me into a person who detached from most things. If I had the chance to talk to her, she never would’ve imagined we’d make it through—that we’d be okay, that we’d have real friends. Friends, I almost pushed away because my mental health was dragging me down again.”

I turned to Rhodes, finally meeting his gaze after all this time. His green eyes held steady, unwavering. Mine brimmed with tears until they spilled over, and when they did, I broke. My sobs were uncontrollable, raw and unfiltered, as if all the pain, all the emotions I’d buried for years were finally clawing their way out.

“Honey,” Rhodes said softly, his voice a soothing contrast to my chaos. He reached for my hand and shifted me gently, making room in the hospital bed so he could climb in beside me. He pulled me into his arms, holding me the way only he could, with quiet strength and unspoken understanding.

I took a shaky breath, resting my head against his chest. His presence steadied me, gave me the courage to keep going.

“Through all of this, I found you,” I whispered. “It sounds crazy, maybe even stupid. From the moment we really met on that street, I felt it, a pull. Like I’d known you my whole life. It was as if the breath I’d been holding for fifteen years finally released.”

Rhodes tilted my chin up, his thumb gentle beneath it, guiding my eyes to meet his.

“I know I’ve told you I love you—and I know you feel the same. But Rhodes, I am so madly, deeply in love with you that it hurts. The thought of a life without you leaves an ache in my chest, I can’t imagine ever filling. When I’m with you, I’m happy. I feel alive again, like that warm, tingly feeling I’d forgotten existed is finally back.”

Rhodes gave me a smile so soft, so full of love, that it stole my breath. It was the kind of smile I wanted to capture in a picture forever, to hold onto for those moments when I doubted whether I truly deserved the love he was so willing to give.

“And that baby over there,” I said, my voice low and reverent, “she’s yours. I’m yours.”

His lips found mine, tender and passionate, grounding me in the warmth of his embrace as we lay entwined in the hospital bed. Frankie’s soft coos drifted from her bassinet beside us, a sweet reminder of a future we’d create together.

When I broke the kiss, his hand remained on my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin in a way that soothed every worry, every doubt.

“And I’m yours, Theo,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

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