Page 43 of Finders Keepers

I hand Gavin the last dish. The kitchen stands spotless now, counters wiped down and leftovers stored away in containers.

“So,” I say, drying my hands on a dish towel, “I should probably give you my number then. For Friday.” The words come out more hesitant than I intended.

“That would be great.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to me.

I stare at the blank contact form for a moment longer than necessary. Such a simple thing, sharing my number, yet it feels monumental. The last man who had my number used it to track my whereabouts, to check up on me, to control me. I shake the thought away and type in my information, trying to ignore the warning bells still ringing faintly in my head.

“There,” I say, handing the phone back.

“I’ll text you so you have mine too.” He taps the screen a few times.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a message:Looking forward to Friday-Gavin

I smile softly. “Now you’re in my phone too.”

Through the window, I can see Sophie still chasing fireflies with Ms. Lucy, her little hands cupped gently as she tries to capture the glowing insects. The sight grounds me, reminds me why I need to be careful.

“She’s having a blast out there,” he says, following my gaze.

“Yeah, she is.” I tuck my phone away. “She deserves this, normal moments, happy memories.”

“You both do,” he says quietly.

I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of the manipulation I’ve grown so accustomed to. But all I see is sincerity in his eyes.

“I should probably get her home soon. It’s past her bedtime already.”

“Of course.” He nods, taking a step back to give me space. “I’ll walk you both back to your place when you’re ready.”

The offer is simple, thoughtful even, but my guard rises automatically. “That’s not necessary. We’re just across the property.”

“Right,” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“No, I—” I stop myself. “Thank you for offering. Maybe next time.”

Itake one final look in the bathroom mirror, adjusting a stubborn curl that won’t quite cooperate. My hands are shaking slightly as I apply the last swipe of peachy lip gloss, and I have to take a deep breath to steady myself. The mint green romper I chose hugs my body in all the right places, and I smooth out the cuff of fabric on my left thigh where the shorts end. The white wedges I paired with this outfit make my legs look even longer than usual. But despite how put-together I look on the outside, my stomach is twisting on the inside.

Matt never would’ve let me out of the house in something this “revealing.” His voice creeps into my thoughts, and I grip the edge of the sink. The romper isn’t even that short, it hits mid-thigh, perfectly modest, but I can almost hear him. “What, you trying to get attention from other men? Is that what you want, you whore.”

I shake my head at my reflection, trying to dislodge his voice. We’re states away. He can’t control what I wear anymore.

But should I change? Maybe this is too much for a casual outing. What if people stare? What if they think I’m—

“Mommy! I drawed you a flower!” Sophie’s voice breaks through my spiral as she appears in the doorway, holding up a crayon masterpiece of purple and green scribbles.

“It’s beautiful, baby.” My smile comes naturally as I move down to her level. “Is that for me to keep?”

She nods enthusiastically, her blonde waves bouncing. “For your purse!”

I carefully fold the drawing and tuck it into my small white crossbody bag. Sophie doesn’t care what I’m wearing. Ms. Lucy won’t care either. The only person judging me is the ghost of Matt I still carry in my head.

I stand tall and look at myself again. This romper isn’t revealing—it’s pretty. I’m allowed to feel pretty. I’m allowed to dress for the warm Texas weather without feeling guilty.

“You look like a princess, Mommy,” Sophie declares, grabbing my hand.

I squeeze her tiny fingers. “Thank you, sweet girl. Are you ready to go?”

The anxiety doesn’t vanish completely, but I refuse to let it win today. One step at a time, I remind myself. One outfit, one outing, one day at a time.

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