Page 54 of The Locksmith's Promise

Smoothing his big hand over my head, his lips trailed kisses along my hairline. “My Maggie. My one and only. My anchor. My fucking everything,” he rumbled softly.

I melted against him and hugged him, soothing him with my hands. Holding him as tightly as he held me.

His chest rose and fell, and his body relaxed into mine.

A shaky breathy spilled from his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Maggie,” he whispered.

I nodded my acceptance and nestled impossibly closer. If I could have crawled inside him, I still wouldn’t have been close enough.

As much as I hated it, as much as I believed it made me all kinds of a fool, every steady beat of my heart proclaimed that I was exactly where I belonged.

And I wished, I wished with every little bit of my battered heart that I hadn’t given up on him ten years ago.

I splayed my hands over his back and hung on.

“So am I.”

13

Memory Lane

Baxter

The overcast sky mirrored my mood as I tucked my hands into the pockets of my thick fleece hoody and trudged along, kicking the leaves up as I walked.

Watching Maggie fall apart when we ran into Jenny gave me a brief glimpse at what I’d done to her so many years before.

It wasn’t like I didn’t know, but knowing intellectually and seeing it play out in front of me were two entirely different things.

If this was how it still affected her after eleven years, I could only imagine the state she was in when she walked in on that fucked-up scene.

Pregnant with our son.

It broke me when I didn’t think there was anything left inside me to break.

I sucked in several deep breaths and blew them out again.

I’d done my work with that situation; made peace with it as best as I could, and I didn’t need or want to rehash it.

But I had a feeling there would come a day when Maggie would.

When that day came, I would be ready to hold that space for her grief and disbelief, her anger, and her broken heart.

Holding Maggie in my arms for those few precious moments only renewed my resolve to give her whatever she needed, and everything she would allow herself to take from me.

I had to be ready. And if that meant revisiting the past one last time, I would do it.

And, my God, her hug healed things inside me she didn’t break. I needed her like I needed oxygen.

Keeping my head down and my hood up as I walked through town kept most people from initiating conversation. I didn’t stop until I made it to the long driveway leading through the woods to my childhood home.

The one I now owned.

God, I always hated walking up this drive, never knowing what version of my father I’d find at the end of it.

Or if I’d find him at all.

---