Page 79 of Better as It

“Is theride,” she finishes. “And you’ve earned it.”

I glance toward the portable crib in the corner where Benjamin’s sleeping. My son. My light.

She follows my gaze, then walks over and lifts him with ease. She kisses his temple, humming something soft.

“I’ll hold him,” she says.

“Mom—”

“You go, Dia. This isn’t just another ride. This is yours, baby girl. You leave everything that came before on the asphalt and you take in what’s ahead.”

She turns toward me, all strength and affection.

“You’re one of us. You’ve always been one of us. You were born for this, my sweet baby girl. But today? Today you feel it. I’ll stay with him so you don’t have to think. Just embrace this for yourself and your man.”

My eyes sting, but I nod.

Because she’s right.

I step outside and the smell of leather, gas, and coffee hits me in the best way.

The parking lot is buzzing. Bikes lined up like wild horses waiting to run. Patches gleaming in the rising sun. Some of these men I’ve known for years. Others I’ve only met a few times when the chapters get together. But they’re all here. For the ride. For our family to be one.

Toon stands near his bike, his cut hanging open, the sun catching the chain around his neck. He turns when he hears the door. He’s gained weight back, his muscle tone is back, and my God I can’t get enough of him. His hair has grown back. All of his labs look good. We are on the other side of cancer. And the future, it looks as good as the man in front of me.

And I swear, the look he gives me in return, could stop time.

Pride.

Need.

Love that burns steady.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks when I reach him.

I laugh. “You sure you’re ready? Because this ride, ya know, it makes boys into men.” I joke.

He smirks. “I’ve been training for this since you told me I didn’t have the balls to love you.”

“You needed the push.”

He reaches out pulling me closer by a belt loop of my jeans. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

He brushes a thumb over my cheek, his touch still soft even after everything we’ve shared.

Then someone clears their throat behind us.

We turn.

My dad. Talon “Tripp” Crews.

He looks different now.

Maybe it’s time, or maybe it’s knowing how close we came to losing each other. His eyes don’t miss a thing, but there’s something softer in the lines of his face.

He nods at me once. “Walk with me.”

I follow him a few steps away from the others, heart already beating harder.

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